Special Investigations Division: Love & Starships
by Loki's Son
Summary: The SID faces the greatest threat they could imagine. A new criminal warlord has arisen and with him the means to destabilize the Federation. The team must act or the UFP is doomed.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star TRek or its related properties. All such rights and considerations belong to CBS/Paramount.**

**This is the 14th installmenty of the _Special Investigations Division_ series. There are four more installments yet to be posted as well as another that I am currently writing.**

* * *

Arcadia Prison was a dismal place. It was a women's detention facility and the worst of the lot were sent there. Barrinor's penal system was more draconian than that of the Federation. The cell's were tiny, dark and closed off with bars. It made one feel like an animal in an archaic zoo.

The prison was divided into three sections. The first was for the general population. Thieves, swindlers, forgers, confidence artists, smugglers and the like were kept there.

The second section housed murderers, narcotics pushers, rapists, molesters, and those convicted of piracy were sent there. Fortunately for Barrinor, most crimes committed landed people in the first section of the prison. The third was the hardest population.

There was little to no chance of reforming this latter group. They were the criminally insane. Their psychoses ran so deep as to resist treatment. They were the "lifers".

Gerda Heinz had recently transferred to the guard detail of Arcadia's psych ward. She'd only been on the job for two weeks but she was already getting to get a grasp on which cases were the dangerous ones.

Take Harriet Spellman, for instance, she was a loon who kill you just as soon look at you. Sheria'thera was another hard case. The _zhen _had killed her entire family _after _performing some arcane mutilation rites. Adrianna Zen also made one stop and thank your deity of choice that she was safely incarcerated.

The worst of the bunch, though, was Annika Ryst. Ryst was utterly dispassionate about killing. It was how she made her living. What made her tricky was that she'd been psychologically conditioned to be a killer and that conditioning automatically resisted any attempts to alter it. If Ryst were unable to escape or kill her counsellor, she would shut down into a nonresponsive state. It wasn't catatonia since she was able to recognise changes in her surroundings and become instantly aware. Ryst's augmented physique added to her lethality.

The psych ward differed from the regular floors. The inmates were contained behind forcefields instead of bars. This afforded an unrestricted view of the entire cell, floor to ceiling. Heinz strolled along, seeing the inmates behind their electrostatic screens. A few threw things at the field, just like always, and like always it was deflected. When she came to Ryst's cell she froze.

Ryst was missing! Heinz visually swept the room and there were no occupants. Procedure demanded that she call for back up. Being young, ambitious, and severely rattled, she deactivated the screen and entered the cell. She almost had time to register her mistake.

Ryst had pushed in the panelling of her ceiling. She had done this by climbing up the walls, tiptoe and fingertips pressed against the opposing walls, and had laboriously created a niche that she could squeeze into. It had taken months of effort and planning. Heinz's arrival had only quickened her pace so that she could exploit the younger woman's inexperience.

Heinz had almost reached Ryst's bunk when Ryst dropped out of the sky. Heinz heard a muffled thump behind and began to turn but it wasn't fast enough. Ryst had landed on her feet, in a crouch, and she sprang forward like an uncoiled cat. Ryst slammed her fingers into Heinz's throat.

The younger woman gagged as her throat swelled and filled with blood. She was unable to cry out! Ryst never slowed. She brought her knee up into Heinz's stomach, doubling her over. The last of her air escaped Heinz's lips.

Ryst leisurely came up behind Heinz's kneeling form. Taking the back of Heinz's head in one hand and her jaw in another, Ryst twisted with all of her might. The neck snapped with a loud crack and the body went slack.

Ryst lifted the body and placed it on the bed. Stripping Heinz of her navy blue jumpsuit and utility belt, Ryst followed this by stripping off her orange jumpsuit and clothed Heinz's corpse with it. Afterwards, she put the blue jumpsuit on. Heinz had been a large woman so the suit was actually too big for the more petite Ryst. She rolled the sleeves up to her elbows and her pant legs up once each. Next she strapped on the utility belt and stun baton.

Ryst covered Heinz's body with the bunk's blankets after placing a pillow under the corpse's knees. Ryst turned exited the cell. Activating the forcefield, she turned and strolled past the remaining cells. Most of the occupants were incoherent but a few were cognizant enough to realise that Ryst was escaping. She received cheers and well wishes as she passed.

Ryst reached the main door and came to a halt. The door was released by a biometric scan. Her reading would sound an alarm. She leaned up against the wall and waited for someone to come through the door.

* * *

One hour and nineteen minutes later, Dana Cousins opened the door. Eying Ryst, she asked, "Have you been here long?"

"Just got here." Ryst easily lied, "They're all quiet. Ryst seems to be sleeping in 113. The rest are in various states of catatonia."

Cousins snorted, "That's about right for this place." She took a closer look at Ryst, "Are you new here?"

"Just started today." Ryst eagerly smiled.

"You seem familiar." Cousins said and then shook her head, "You must get that a lot."

"The curse of being average." Ryst chuckled, "Am I done here?"

"The usual procedure is to check out with the main guard station." Cousins grinned, "And then you're free."

"Thank God." Ryst sighed, "It's going to take me a month to get used to working gamma shift."

"Hang in there." Cousins said encouragingly, "We've all been there. Let me get the door for you."

The door panel scanned Cousins and Ryst thanked her as she passed by. Now out in the main corridor, she proceeded to the main entrance of the facility. The main guard station stood in front of the doors to the outside world. Ryst brazenly walked past the station. She went unchallenged.

Once outside, she squinted in the light of the early morning sun. She fished a small transponder out of her belt and depressed its activation switch. Down the row of parked aircars, one fired up and its antigravs flared to life, bobbing the car into the air. Ryst went to the elevated car and opened the electronically unlocked door with the transponder. Climbing into the car, she activated the computer and requested positioning info. Discovering she was a mere two hundred kilometres away from Barrinor's capital, she instructed the autopilot to take her there and the car obediently began to fly in that direction.

* * *

Four hours later Ryst had ditched the car, accessed a reserve bank account under the name Celeste Rockford, purchased clothing and had her hair done. It was now cut shorter and was blonde. Her hair was pulled into a small tail and the stylist had said it made her look like a pixie. The thought of altering her hair colour had never occurred to Ryst until today. It would take a constable at least a second look to make her and by then she would have the situation under control.

Ryst carried her bags to a local hotel and booked a room. Taking her purchases to the room, she left and went to the luggage store in the lobby. Ordering a set of bags, she had them sent to her room. Next, she stepped into the café in the lobby and ordered lunch.

Having finished her meal, she hailed a cab and ordered it to the shuttleport. It arrived and she asked the driver to keep the meter running and wait for her. Stepping out, she headed for the local sales office.

Upon seeing a woman dressed in an expensive business suit, Harl Edgely smelled money. He quickly sized her up and approached, "Can I help you?"

"I want to buy a ship. A recent model runabout if you have them or a shuttle if you've nothing better." Ryst said in a matter of fact tone.

"Are you certain you wouldn't prefer to book a flight or charter a service?"

Ryst chuckled darkly, "I know the travel lines give you a higher commission but I want a ship and I want it now."

Edgely blinked but said nothing for a moment, "I have something you might appreciate. It's out of most travellers' price range but if I've guessed correctly, price is no object."

"You've guessed correctly." Ryst's lips curved into a smile.

"Follow me." Edgely proceeded to lead her out the back door, Ryst followed and he manoeuvred around several parked shuttles. Coming around a larger shuttle he stopped and beamed.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Sitting before them was a black metallic capsule with two warp nacelles. Ryst looked dubious, "How fast can she move?"

"She's capable of .7 _c_ at sublight and she can get up to warp 4.75 for twelve hours. Her normal cruising speed is warp 3.6." Edgely explained and then went on to describe the ship's capabilities, "She is fully computer driven with manual override available. She sports a full living suite with a dining area and a bedroom suite as well."

"What are her defensive capabilities?" Ryst wondered.

"She has merchant marine issue defensive shields." Edgely described, "As well as Type II phasers."

"Those would barely pulverise an asteroid." Ryst snorted.

"But they will give the stray pirate or rogue the fright of his life." Edgely chuckled.

"I'll take it." Ryst declared.

"Without seeing the interior?" Edgely squawked.

"If it doesn't satisfy me I'll simply return and kill you." Ryst warned him.

It took Edgely a moment to realise that she wasn't joking. Taking it as a foible of the wealthy, he walked her back to the office where she transferred the latinum to the corporate coffers. She also authorised a fifty strip gratuity for Edgely. He gratefully promised to oversee the ship's detailing himself. Her business concluded, Ryst returned to the waiting cabbie who was greedily watching the meter climb.

* * *

Later that evening, after dinner, Ryst used the comm unit in her room to contact the Orion Syndicate. After two hours of being foisted off on increasingly higher-ups, she finally spoke to Robhurt B'nner's lieutenant. She, in turn, rerouted the call to B'nner himself.

The grizzled old Orion calmly studied Ryst, "You're looking well for someone who's just broken jail."

"And you're well informed." Ryst commented.

"I keep an eye on our top assets." B'nner informed her, "That independent job you did for the Solarian Security Systems was sloppy work. I would have expected more from you."

"I was careless." Ryst admitted, "I underestimated the targets."

B'nner smiled, showing yellow teeth, "Good. Very good. You didn't try and shift the blame. I respect that."

"Thank you." Ryst said.

"And now you want me to place a contract on Macen's life so that you can slay him." B'nner stated.

"Yes." Ryst coolly confirmed it.

"No." B'nner registered Ryst's disappointment and elaborated, "I have another target in mind. One that will lead Macen's lackeys into a trap that will avenge Daveed's death."

"Your son was my patron." Ryst confided, "I would do anything to repay his murder."

"Excellent." B'nner chuckled without humour, "Join me on Orion and we shall plot our vengeance together."

Ryst bowed her head, "It will be done."

"Which alias are you employing?" B'nner inquired.

"Celeste Rockford." Ryst answered.

"I will transfer five thousand bars of latinum to that account." B'nner announced, "That should cover your expenses."

"I'm grateful." Ryst replied.

"Don't grateful. Be successful." B'nner admonished, "If you are, you will have a life of comfort and leisure."

"Maybe later in life." Ryst retorted, "I still have good years ahead of me."

"As do I." B'nner assured her, "When can you set out for Orion?"

"I secured a ship today." Ryst informed him, "I should be able to leave tomorrow."

"Good." B'nner smiled again. It was a ghastly sight, "Our vengeance has waited for too long."

* * *

The crowd's gathered in the chapel of the Ministerial Mansion on Bajor. Today Astris Beru, the 1st Minister of Bajor was wedding her long time love, Kara Gena. Their love and devotion for one another had been tested by trial and by fire. Now, a mere four months since Astris had proposed, their nuptials had arrived.

The guest list included Amelia Wynter, The President of Earth; Korista Schrieber, the President of Mars; Drake Parsons, the President of Luna; and Vladimir Kirov, the Premier of Bolshevik. Also in attendance were Brin Macen, T'Kir, Tom Riker, and Lisea Danan. With them were Captain Kira Nerys, Commander Elias Vaughn, and Lt. Commander Ro Laren. Every one of the honoured guests had taken part in the secret conspiracy that had led to this day.

While Astris was being given away by her father, Astris Marn, Kara was being escorted down the aisle by no one other than the President of the Federation, Gant Delane. Delane had also been a victim of the kidnappings that cemented the brides' relationship. The Kai himself was conducting the ceremony and it promised to be the social event of the decade. Having been deprived of the Emissary's wedding, the people demanded to be part of this one.

Festivals and celebrations were being held around the world. Many on the opposite side of Bajor were staying awake or waking early to catch the live coverage of the event. Many still speculated on why Kara had stepped down as Legal Minister four months ago but now the talking heads were united in saying that it must have been in preparation for the wedding.

That suited the couple since the truth was classified as a state secret by the Federation. The fiction was ever so much more elegant than the truth.

The brides were picturesque in gowns of satin and spun lace. Since Bajoran customs did not lend themselves to wearing a particular shade or colour for one's wedding, Astris had relied upon the Terran influences she'd encountered while attending Starfleet Academy. Artisans from around the globe had submitted designs in an effort to showcase their skills. In the end, a dressmaker working out of her home was chosen alongside an influential designer's offering. The designer was now trying to woo the artisan into working for him.

The assembled crowd was standing in a meadow. A pathway through the crowd was maintained for the bridal processional. A herald announced the beginning of the ceremony and the Kai took his place at the head of the crowd. Bell ringers came next and the crowd turned as one to face the approaching brides.

Astris came first. She was a breathtaking vision in white. Her father wore his finest garments for the occasion. He beamed with pride as his daughter walked beside him, glowing from within and unable to contain her happiness.

Behind her came Kara. Her coffee coloured skin was set off by the red satin she wore. Gant Delane proudly escorted her, holding himself erect and striding with purpose. He had one hand on her back, another supporting her arm and the last free and loose.

The brides took their places facing one another and the ceremony began. It was a short but reverent affair. When the last invocation was pronounced, Astris and Kara kissed and held each other tight. Holding one another's hand, they giddily met the crowd.

* * *

Later, aboard the _Rio Grande_, Ro manned the helm and T'Kir took OPS. Macen sat at the Science station while Kira, Vaughn, Riker and Danan occupied the aft crew compartment. The conversations, of course, revolved around the wedding.

"I'm glad their day is going so well." T'Kir declared, "After what they went through to get here, they deserve it."

"I was impressed by how many non-Bajorans showed up. They're getting an awful lot of interstellar support." Ro opined.

"Am I detecting a wistful note there, Laren?" Macen suddenly enquired.

"No." Ro said defensively and then she sighed, "Maybe. I'm not getting any younger and suddenly I want to share my life with someone."

"Sharing involves risk." Macen counselled, "You're not one for risk."

"What about all our madcap adventures in the Maquis?" Ro demanded, "That was risky."

Macen smiled, "You've never been adverse to personal risk but _emotional_ risk is another matter."

Ro snapped her chair around and she glared at Macen, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what it means, Laren." Macen calmly answered, "Your search for a strong father figure to replace your image of your own father is indicative of another, greater pain. You felt betrayed by your father and that broke your heart. You've carried that pain into your adult life."

Macen held Ro's gaze, "You're afraid of being re-traumatised so you hold the universe at bay. Quite honestly, I'm amazed that I'm as close to you as I am. To be frank, you still hold T'Kir and Lees at arm's length but you've chosen to confide in me. For that distinction I'm deeply touched and honoured."

Ro's fierce countenance gradually began to fade as his words sank in. Finally, she shook her head, "Oh hell, I can't argue with you even if I wanted to _and_ I want to. All right, the truth is hanging out there for all to see, what do I do about it?"

"What's important to you?" Macen asked, "What will make you happy?"

"I…I don't know." Ro's admission was almost heartbreaking in its honesty.

"Figure that out and then you'll have your answer." Macen confided, "Once you have your answer don't let anyone or anything block you from getting it."

Ro slowly nodded, "All right."

Macen warmly smiled, "I suggest you explore this topic with Ezri Dax. Besides being your friend she's a former counsellor and she has eight lifetimes of experience. Her insights could prove to be invaluable."

Ro looked uncomfortable. She chewed on the idea for several minutes. Finally, she nodded, "Okay, I'll try it out. I won't make any promises about being successful though."

Macen rose out of his seat and went to Ro's station. He put his arms around her shoulders and gave her a hug.

"Whatever happens, you'll be happier." He assured her.

"Sure I will." Ro grimaced. She straightened herself out, "Time to get back to flying this tub."

"Why?" T'Kir asked, "The autopilot is doing just fine."

Ro glared at her and put the runabout back on manual control. T'Kir shrugged and swivelled her seat around. She bore a serious mien as she addressed Macen.

"I can't wait to get out of this dress." T'Kir said.

The dress in question was her bridesmaid dress from Daggit and Parva's wedding. Macen gave her an indulgent smile, "I think it's lovely and you look absolutely beautiful in it."

T'Kir sat erect and brightened, "Really? I'll have to wear it more often."

"Please do." Macen chuckled.

T'Kir genuflected, "Your wish, sir, is my command."

"That'll be the day." Macen scoffed.

"You know me too well." T'Kir put her hand to her forehead in a swooning manner.

Macen laughed and made to rise, "I think I'll check on the passengers. They're bound to be getting in trouble by now."

T'Kir's eyes went glassy for a moment and then they sharpened up, "Yup. They're telling war stories and right now Tom's regaling them with the capture of Deerven."

"Fates help us." Macen went aft.

Ro turned to T'Kir, "Who's Deerven?"

"He was a data smuggler we bagged a week ago." T'Kir informed her, "The story goes somethin' like this…"

* * *

"And then Brin ordered Telrik to beam Deerven up." Riker laughed, "Fortunately he felt the annular confinement beam take hold and he had time to stand up. He materialised aboard the _Obsidian_ clutching a padd _with_ his pants around his ankles."

"To make matters worse, he was faced with Daggit and Radil armed to the teeth aiming phaser rifles at him." Danan chimed in, "Brin just stood there laughing. Finally he said, 'Would you like to pull your pants up? You're making the ladies blush.'"

"To which," Riker took over, "Radil said, "No, he's not.'"

"So Brin tried again but this time ended with, 'You're making the men feel inadequate.'" Danan added.

"So Daggit pipes up with, "Speak for yourself.'" Riker chortled, "Brin throws his arms up in the air and yells, 'Just work with me people!'"

"At this point," Danan was positively gleeful, "Deerven tries to ruin…but his pants are still around his ankles. He trips and falls off the transporter pads. His naked ass is up in the air, pointed right at Brin and the rest, and he's struggling to get up. Radil merely shrugs and shoots him in the arse."

"Brin gives her a weary sigh and asks her if she couldn't have waited until Deerven had pulled up his pants." Riker relates, "And I swear to God, Radil blushed for the first time since I've known her."

Vaughn chuckled and then asked, "So, how did Deerven's pants get pulled up?"

"Radil made two of her Security officers pull them up and fasten them. They tried so hard not to touch anything that it took them nearly an hour to straighten everything out. By the time they were ready to move him, he woke up." Riker relayed.

"Sounds pretty humorous." Kira opined.

"The worst part is that we'd piped the whole thing to every viewer aboard the ship." Danan grinned, "By the time they got Deerven to the brig, the entire crew was laughing."

Vaughn shook his head, still chuckling, "He'll use that in court."

"He already has." Macen said as he appeared in the crew compartment, "He's filed an allegation of torture."

"That's pretty serious." Kira replied.

"I've already been contacted by Admiral Drake." Macen revealed as he sat down on one of the unoccupied cots, "I can't undertake any SID missions until I hear from her."

"And she hasn't called yet so we've had a week off and could attend the wedding." Danan added.

"Which we would have made time for anyway." Macen asserted.

"I'm sure that Astris and Kara appreciated your coming." Kira turned to Riker and Danan, "_All_ of you."

Riker gratefully smiled, "I was just delighted to be invited."

Danan bobbed her head in agreement, "I was simply touched."

Kira's smile became impish, "So, how long are you two going to wait before solidifying your relationship?"

Riker squirmed and cleared his throat. Danan shifted around like a worm on a hook. Macen laughed.

"You've asked the wrong pair." He explained, "They're contently committed to the single life. They just 'appreciate one another's company'."

Kira gave Riker a mirthful appraisal, "Tom?"

Riker cast a sidelong glance Danan's way before replying, "We're just friends."

"And lovers when the mood strikes?" Kira was unrelenting.

"That's right." Danan strongly asserted, "We're each free to pursue whomever we like."

"How often does that occur?" Kira inquired.

Danan prompted Riker with a jerk of her head and her gaze. Riker took a deep breath and released it, "So far it hasn't but the option is always there."

"It seems to me that you need to reconsider your options." Vaughn opined.

"We're fine." Danan insisted, "Things are great the way they are."

Kira shrugged, "Each to their own."

Riker sagged in relief. Danan still looked irked. Vaughn and Kira wisely kept their peace.

* * *

Macen returned to the cockpit and sat in while T'Kir regaled Ro with Deerven's fate. The moment's levity distracted Macen from how badly he dreaded Drake's coming call. The probabilities were fluctuating around this event. It could spell real trouble for the team.

Macen decided to forget about this trouble. It would happen when it did and go the way that it would. At least he had the company of good friends to revel in.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later on Barrinor, the morning found Macen enjoying a cup of coffee and a scone. He was reading the latest articles from the Federation News Service when the door chime sounded. T'Kir ran out of the office, past Macen, and to the door.

"It's probably Hannah." T'Kir said by way of explanation.

She opened the door and found Amanda Drake waiting on the porch. The Admiral was out of uniform. She wore a brown cropped jacket with a light blue ruched front tank top and khaki pants. She also wore brown Mary Janes.

"Oh boy." T'Kir gulped.

One of Drake's eyebrows rose in a decidedly Vulcan manner, "Are you going to invite me in?"

"Sure, I guess." T'Kir stepped out of the way and Drake breezed past her. She saw Macen sitting in a wingback chair and made a beeline for him.

"We need to talk." She declared.

Macen looked up from his padd, "My God Amanda, you're out of uniform."

Drake smirked, "I'm on leave. I'm taking the opportunity to visit my sister while I'm here."

"So what does that have to do with me?" Macen enquired, "I don't currently work for you. Not unless you want to have that talk you owe me."

"Oh yes you do." Drake grinned like the proverbial cat.

"I think you'd better sit down." Macen suggested, "Can I get you anything?"

"The smell of coffee is permeating this place." Drake observed, "Don't tell me you have real beans."

"Yup." Macen gleefully grinned, "Freshly ground. Want some?"

"I'd kill for some." Drake replied with a laugh.

"How do you take it?" Macen asked as he rose.

"Do you have Irish cream?" Drake asked.

"No," Macen said, "but I can replicate some."

"What about flavoured syrups?" Drake wondered.

"That I have." Macen said with a smile.

"Then I'll take hazelnut if you have it." Drake ordered up.

"Be right back." Macen promised and headed for the townhouse's kitchen.

T'Kir continued to simply stare at Drake. Finally Drake responded, "Can I help you?"

"Nope." T'Kir shook her head.

"Then what is it?" Drake demanded.

"You look like a normal person." T'Kir replied, "I didn't think that was possible."

"My husband will be happy to hear that." Drake drolly commented.

"That's another thing that's too weird to think about." T'Kir opined.

"You're giving me lectures on convention and normality?" Drake scoffed, "That's rich."

T'Kir grinned, "Ain't it though?"

"What about your ensemble?" Drake nodded at T'Kir. T'Kir wore an olive green spaghetti strap tank top with black denim pants and black ankle boots. Drake shook her head, "Do you always dress like a mercenary?"

"Only every other day." T'Kir smirked as she nodded agreement. Her hair, loosely pulled into a tail, bobbed up and down with her motions.

The door chimed and T'Kir bolted for the door. With a jubilant "Hi!" she let Grace in. Grace saw Drake and did a double take.

"Sorry." Grace blushed, "I didn't recognise you."

Macen reappeared at that point carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, "Hi Hannah."

Grace curtsied. Her leather long coat scraped across the floor. T'Kir disappeared for a moment and then reappeared wearing her Tal Shiar issue V-necked black leather duster. She was also strapping on her gunbelt.

"You two make quite a pair." Drake observed, "Do you have the same tailor?"

"The coat used to be T'Kir's but she gave to me." Grace explained.

"And _you_," Drake stared at T'Kir, "don't you go anywhere without that thing on?"

"It's a nice coat." T'Kir protested.

"Not that," Drake clarified, "the gun."

T'Kir wore a giddy smile, "My gun is my friend."

"I'm sure." Drake sarcastically replied. Looking to Macen, she added, "And I thought you were nuts for naming your phaser."

"Laren and I were quite happy together." Macen grinned.

Drake rolled her eyes, "Lord help me."

"We're off." T'Kir bounced to Macen's side and kissed him on the cheek. He caught and drew her in for a proper kiss. Finishing, T'Kir looked pleadingly at Grace, "D'we have to go?"

"We made plans, dearie." Grace remarked with her arms folded across her chest, "We're testing out the new modifications Joachim made to the _Corsair_."

T'Kir backhanded Macen's arm, "You were supposed to come."

"Before I reply, let me say 'Ow'." Macen rubbed his arm, "I'd come but I need to stay behind and pay the bills."

T'Kir stuck her tongue out. Walking away, she called over her shoulder, "Don't forget, we have plans for this afternoon."

"I'm sure Amanda will be gone by then." Macen assured her.

"Good." T'Kir declared and she and Grace departed.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, she wants me gone." Drake opined.

"Yup." Macen confirmed.

Drake scowled, "That was your opportunity to make me feel better."

"It's not my job, Amanda." Macen retorted, "You wanted that bracketed pip on your collar. You also get the grief that comes with it."

Drake sighed. She took a sip of her coffee, "Mmm. That's good. My compliments."

"Thanks." Macen acknowledged the praise and then asked, "What's on your mind?"

"Before I get into that, what's T'Kir's latest beef with me?" Drake wondered.

Macen leaned back and became very sombre, "She resents working for the SID. She sees it as risking too much."

"I'll agree that you don't get the easiest cases but how is this different from when you were in the Maquis?" Drake pointedly asked.

"That time ended ten years ago." Macen explained, "Now we're together and she's seriously considering starting a family."

"T'Kir?" Drake's eyes bulged, "T'Kir as a mother? Wouldn't that qualify as child abuse?"

"I admit that a child of ours would receive a unique upbringing," Macen wore a rueful grin, "but she or he wouldn't be abused."

"Like T'Kir said, it's just too weird to think about." Drake was still in shock.

"All right," Macen drew himself up, "why are you here?"

Drake grinned like a little girl with a naughty secret, "Like I said, your contract has been renewed."

"I thought Jellico wanted my head." Macen replied.

"He does." Drake's grin grew, "And as Theatre Commander of the Alpha Quadrant, he can have it…as long as you're a commissioned officer in Starfleet. As a reinstated member of the Council of Five, he tried to demand that your contract be contingent upon you're being commissioned. Sadly enough for him, the rest of the Council voted against his proposition and your contract was renewed."

"Wait a minute," Macen looked aghast, "Jellico was promoted to the second highest position in Starfleet _and _he was put back on the Council?"

"The best way to control Eddie is to have him close by." Drake's smile was feral.

"So I'm free?" Macen enquired.

"Not quite." Drake replied apprehensively, "Jellico insisted that we review your team's operating methods. That was a unanimous decision."

"What kind of investigation?" Macen warily asked.

"A member of the SID who was brought up through Internal Affairs' ranks, like myself, will accompany you during an assignment." Drake explained.

"Amanda!" Macen protested, "She'll get in the way _and_ I can't guarantee her safety."

"You don't need to." Drake insisted, "She's a fully qualified SID officer. She'll hold her own."

Macen looked as though he'd swallowed something sour, "This is a terrible idea."

"The alternative is to come back to Earth and undergo a full, formal inquiry." Drake pronounced.

"Okay, the idea is getting better every time I hear it." Macen remarked.

"So you'll agree to submit to this informal investigation?" Drake asked

"Yes." Macen sighed, "I was just wondering how I'll explain Starfleet rules to Joachim?"

Drake rolled her eyes, "You'd better find a way. Your Nova Romans have given us nothing but trouble since you forced us to acknowledge them. They're as prickly as Klingons, twice as stubborn as Vulcans and at least three times as canny as Romulans."

"You gotta love `em." Macen happily bubbled.

"Bob Johnson was ready to strangle you for several weeks." Drake revealed, "Their Emperor wanted to have a formal treaty with us but balked at the term 'protectorate'. Bob practiced some fancy linguistic footwork and accomplished the same thing."

"Not to the Romans, he didn't." Macen chuckled, "It would behove you to reread all of the fine print and the _exact _cultural meanings of the words as employed in Latin."

Drake hesitated. Pulling a padd out of her jacket pocket, she made some notations, "I'll have someone look into that."

"You do that." Macen smirked.

"Wipe that smug expression off of your face or I will personally cancel your contract." Drake threatened.

This amused Macen even more. Restraining his laughter, he changed the topic, "So how are things going with the Iotians?"

Drake shot one last irritated look in Macen's direction before replying, "The Iotians are sincerely trying to normalise relations between the 'two' Federations. The plain fact that they've given up on their protection racket is proof enough of that."

Macen pondered that point. The Iotians, in loving homage to their gangster forerunners, would sail into a solar system and demand resources and trade goods in exchange for the "protection" provided by membership in the Iotian Federation. They had carried on in this way for nearly a quarter of a century.

"The good news," Drake interrupted Macen's train of thought with a smile, "is that Sigma Iotia II is about to have their very first elections. The Federation has been brought in to advise and oversee the process."

Macen was astounded, "How?"

"Well, as you know, James Kirk left Iotia in the hands of Bela Oxmyx and his lieutenant, Kracko. Oxmyx swiftly declared the 'Syndicate Racket's top position to be a hereditary one. Kracko's family was displaced by the next generation of Oxmyx's. The new Oxmyx declared his in-laws to be the Bela family, named in honour of his father, and placed them as the hereditary heirs to the lieutenantship."

"Things went smoothly until the Iotian Starfleet was launched." Drake wore a nasty smile, "The real power lay with the Starfleet so Oxmyx declared his family to be the Grand Admirals of Starfleet while the Belas became the planetary rulers."

"Until recently when the contemporary Oxmyx ousted the Belas and seized the reins of power from both ends." Macen completed for her.

"Well," Drake's smile was utterly feral now, "it seems the good citizens of Iotia are tired about just hearing about their rights and decided to utilise them. Led by representatives of the Kracko family, who have become Iotia's leading voices of reform, they stormed the Bela mansion and staged a coup."

Drake delightedly brought her hands together, "The elections are in three months and there are already candidates for every seat of the proposed parliament."

"And where do the Krackos fit into this?" Macen cautiously wondered.

"That's the best part!" Drake bubbled, "The Kracko family is staying out of it. They're staying in their place as an independent watchdog."

"All right," Macen conceded, "I'm impressed."

Drake wagged her finger at Macen, "I knew you would be. You're always so sceptical. It's amazing that you can have any fun at all."

"I have fun."

"I know." Drake deflated, "That's what I don't understand."

"I've learned to leave it all behind when the mission is done." Macen asserted.

"Oho!" Drake sneered, "So he says now."

"Once the mission's done, all I can do is review my decisions, identify my mistakes and learn from them." Macen proclaimed.

"Sounds nice but life isn't that cut and dried." Drake retorted, "Somewhere inside, every mission you've ever been on is eating away at you. That's probably why you fail every psych eval we subject you to."

Drake was surprised by Macen's reaction. The man was robbed of his usual poise and he uncomfortably squirmed in his seat. For a moment, for just a flash, he was vulnerable. His defences and pretences were stripped bare and he was exposed.

Macen's voice was raw with emotion as he spoke, "You have no idea why I fail those tests, Amanda. The results are clinical and sanitised for consumption. The reality is darker…and far more dangerous."

Drake sat there, completely still and quiet as a stone. Macen sat before her and she hadn't a clue as how to proceed next. She watched as he rebuilt his shields. It was like he was putting on another person's exterior.

Drake opened her mouth but Macen curtly cut her off, "Whatever platitude you're about to recant, don't."

"To be frank," Drake opted to go with unrestrained honesty, "I'm not sure of what to discuss next."

"Finish your briefing." Macen commanded.

"Riiiight." Drake was still in shock, "I was about to discuss the Kelvans."

"I thought they were in negotiations with the Federation." Macen was puzzled.

"Negotiations?" Drake scoffed, "Try one sided demands."

"On whose part?" Macen dreaded the answer.

"The Kelvans want a military alliance…period." Drake revealed, "Any cultural exchanges are to be one sided. They take and we provide. Their leader…"

"Parvac." Macen supplied.

"Yes, Parvac." Drake uttered the name like a curse, "He sees the Federation as a convenient tool. He has no interest in a dialogue."

"We have alliances with other similar species." Macen reminded her.

"Not ones that can wipe out an Omicron fleet without trying hard." Drake groused, "These people are dangerous."

"Do you trust them?" Macen asked.

Drake snorted, "Not a chance in hell."

"Then why not explain that to them?" Macen wondered.

"It has been." Drake said wearily, "The Federation's envoy has repetitively stressed the need for trust and common ground upon which to build an alliance and…"

"And the Kelvans keep pushing." Macen finished for her.

"Damned right they do." Drake cursed, "And they're so insular it's been impossible for either Alynna or I to insert agents into their colony."

"I thought there were human settlers on New Kelva." Macen remarked.

"There are but the Kelvans keep tabs on them as well." Drake muttered in disgust.

"Oh well." Macen sighed, "That approach wouldn't help you very much. Hannah has told me the Kelvans keep their distance from the humans."

"They're definitely doing that at the negotiating table." Drake said, "It's like they don't want to be infected by us."

Macen wore a sombre expression, "They don't want to be influenced by your emotional expressions. They're already having a hard enough time adapting to their new forms."

"That's what our exosociologists think as well." Drake offered a wan smile. Draining the last of her mug, she handed it towards Macen, "Can I trouble you for another cup?"

"Don't get spoiled." Macen laughed as he accepted her cup and rose to pad off to the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

Macen returned from the kitchen to find Drake out of her seat and examining the holopictures on the end table. She activated one and watched the mini-movie it contained. She did the same with each presentation in turn. She stared off into blank space and sighed. The smell of coffee alerted her to Macen's presence.

"Sorry." She said with some embarrassment, "I didn't realise that you'd come back."

"I live here." Macen said with a gentle grin, "I can do that."

Drake accepted her cup back and she sat down on the sofa, "I didn't mean to get distracted. I did come here for a purpose."

"We'll get to it." Macen promised her, "The pictures filled you with conflicting emotions. One strong one was a sense of pride but foremost above them all was regret."

Drake nervously sipped her coffee before replying, "I don't know what I can say."

"Try the truth." Macen offered, "It usually goes a long way towards resolving a problem."

"I don't know what I _should _say." Drake clarified.

"Is this about your career?" Macen wondered.

"Oh God, no." Drake nervously laughed. Macen could tell that she was struggling to keep back a torrent of raw, painful emotions. "My career is so stellar I've been fast tracked for a promotion."

"Congratulations, I think." Macen paused, "You do realise that leaves your personal life as the chief suspect?"

"Yes." Drake said through a strained voice.

"The only thing you've never discussed with me is your family." Macen gently coaxed, "So I'm willing to bet that it's time to break that rule."

Drake broke down. Macen took the cup from her hands and sat it down on the appropriately named coffee table. He came to sit beside the ailing admiral. He draped an arm around her and she cried into his shoulder.

Her sobs were deep and racking. Macen quietly soothed her while the outpour overwhelmed her. Her emotions were still in flux when her pride demanded that she comport herself. Macen gently pulled her back down to his shoulder.

"Shhh." Macen urged, "You need this worse than you need your perceptions of dignity."

Drake released another bout of tears but it wasn't as fervent and didn't last half as long. When she was spent, emotionally and physically, she pushed herself away and wiped her eyes. Her face puckered.

"What?" Macen asked, acutely aware of newfound distress.

"I've made a mess of your shirt." Drake wailed.

Despite her being on the verge of tears again, the situation made Macen laugh, "I'll survive Amanda. Will you?"

Drake wiped her eyes again and her nose for good measure. She reflected for a moment. Cautiously, she nodded, "I think I will."

Macen rose and went to the nearest replicator. He returned to Drake with a handkerchief, "Use this."

"But I…" Drake feebly began to protest.

"Just use it, Admiral." Macen softly demanded.

Drake took it and brought it to her nose. After several loud blasts, she felt far more content.

"Done?" Macen asked. Drake nodded. Macen accepted the handkerchief back from her and recycled it in the replicator, "Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll change my shirt."

Drake fidgeted while Macen was away. Every instinct screamed at her to leave. She'd just broken down in front of a subordinate. She wondered what he could be thinking.

Macen returned suddenly. The flannel shirt was gone only to be replaced black shouldered grey shirt.

"Still here, huh?" Macen grinned, "I thought you would've bolted by now."

"I wouldn't." Drake insisted.

"Then why are you blushing out of embarrassment?" Macen asked her point-blank.

Drake subsided, "Why did you give me the opportunity to run?"

"I had to see if you honestly wanted help." Macen informed her, "You're still here which means that you want help."

"I wouldn't be so sure, mister!" Drake took another look at his shirt, "And what the hell are you doing in a Captain's alternative shirt?"

"They're no longer in Starfleet vogue." Macen grinned, "I was able to get a great deal at a surplus equipment depot on Chrinem VII."

"Do I even want to know?" Drake asked with a pained expression.

"Probably not." Macen chuckled for a moment, "But let's talk about you."

"Do we have to?" Drake groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"Yes," Macen dryly remarked, "I think now is a good time."

"You do realise that you're a subordinate and that it's completely improper for me to break down in front of you?" Drake wryly asked.

"First," Macen said with a wicked gleam in his eye, "I've never considered myself to be your subordinate. I always saw it as a meeting of equals _and_ since I'm a civilian you really can't order me about."

"I can fire you." Drake warned.

Macen nodded, "You can do that. I'm willing to bet that you don't want to after fighting so hard to renew my contract."

Drake made a face, "What's the second point?"

"I already knew you were human. So the fact that you can have a rough time of it is no real revelation." Macen finished with a kind smile.

Drake sighed forlornly, "How do I begin?"

"Being as honest and as blunt as possible is the usual method." Macen informed her, "Trying to make the situation sound better than it is only makes it worse in the long run."

Drake took a deep breath and released it, "Richard left me."

"And Richard is…?" Macen enquired.

"My husband." Drake revealed.

"I thought as much." Macen nodded, "Why did he leave?"

Drake grimaced, "It gets rather complicated. Richard was the 1st Officer aboard the _Bozeman_ when it went through the causality loop that the _Enterprise _discovered. Finding himself suddenly thrust into the 24th century, Richard availed himself of the resettlement training that Starfleet offered."

Drake ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her face, "All Richard had wanted to be his entire life is a Starfleet officer. That was suddenly stripped from him."

"He could've served in an administrative or scientific post." Macen reminded her.

Drake replied with a wan smile, "Richard was a Command officer. He wanted his shot at the centre seat."

"I see." Macen grew pensive before he asked, "How did you two meet then? I have to ask because I'm sorry to say that I can't imagine you having a wide circle of friends."

A rueful smile crept across Drake's face, "You wouldn't be wrong. Alynna recruited Richard and put him to work in Starfleet Intelligence. He was an operative and I was Internal Affairs' liaison with Intelligence."

"That's a mix." Macen commented.

"We didn't formalise our pairing until he quit working for Alynna." Drake divulged.

"Why did he quit?" Macen wondered.

"Richard gathered together a group of the _Bozeman's _crew." Drake recalled, "He sought a letter of marque and received it. They pooled their resources and purchased a _Barracuda_-class scout. Their license authorised them to keep the weapons array intact. They went into business for themselves contracting out as commercial surveyors and scouts."

"So they weren't affiliated with the Security Consultant's Guild?" Macen asked.

"No." Drake heaved a careworn sigh, "Richard has never been a private investigator or a security consultant."

"But he _could_ be." Macen insisted, "With his qualifications he could act in that capacity, couldn't he?"

Drake's eyes narrowed, "I don't like what you're implying."

Macen shrugged, "You don't have to like it. You simply have to keep yourself open to possibilities. You've been trained to be objective. Apply those lessons to your own life."

"I don't know." Drake began to fidget, "Richard…my God!" Drake's eyes went wide and she stared into empty space, "Everything changed after he started that company."

"His assignments…he claimed that he'd signed confidentiality agreements. He was sworn to secrecy and so was I." Drake was disturbed by where this train of thought was leading her, "When he was in Intelligence we could discuss cases he was cleared for. After he left, his clearances were revoked. We could still discuss declassified operations and cases but that ended when I accepted the mantle of the SID. _Every _case is classified."

Drake wore a haunted expression, "We had nothing to talk about."

Macen gently laid a hand on her shoulder, "How certain are you about those confidentiality agreements?"

"What do you mean?" Drake started to blink back tears.

"Think it through, Amanda." Macen softly urged, "You're an Admiral in Starfleet Intelligence. You're a former Internal Affairs officer. That means you're pretty well authorised to know the specifics of any mission or survey in the Federation. It's your duty to know."

Drake sniffled, "I've been asking him about his jobs. I told him I could easily get permission to investigate one of his previous contracts."

"And he reacted badly didn't he?" Macen enquired.

Drake nodded while becoming weepy, "He was livid. He asked why I didn't trust him any more. He stormed off. When I reported for duty the next day, there was a message from him saying that everything would be explained when I returned home. I rushed home that night to find all of his things missing."

Drake was openly crying now, "I ran a trace on him and his comm code is being used at a flat in New York City. That was three weeks ago! He hasn't even tried to contact me since then even though I've left two or three messages a day."

Drake broke into a new round of sobs. Macen held her close and stroked her head. The display of grief didn't last as long as her first two bouts. She quickly began to compose herself.

"You think Richard was up to something." Drake said as she wiped her eyes and sniffled.

"You have to admit, he had the perfect cover." Macen ruefully elaborated, "He was married to one of the top cops in the Federation and you never looked into what he was doing. When you finally nosed around, he left and hasn't been heard from since."

Drake frowned, "Sounds damned suspicious to me."

"Have Alynna check into it." Macen advised, "Anything you do will draw criticism."

"Jilted wife and all that?" Drake asked and Macen nodded, "Can I use your comm?"

"Be my guest." Macen led her to the office and activated his computer/communications terminal. He excused himself and let Drake make her call. When she'd finished she rejoined him in the sitting room.

"Alynna is home in bed." Drake wryly grinned, "I left her a detailed message. With any luck a probe will be launched."

"Feel better?" Macen had to ask.

Drake pondered the question and then vigorously nodded, "Yes. Yes, I do."

"Good." Macen smiled as Drake retook her position on the couch. Macen had moved to one of the oversized chairs, "We were getting to why you called on us when we got distracted."

A wry smile dominated Drake's features…that and her puffy, bloodshot grey eyes, "Before I melted down you mean?"

"Yes, that's what I mean." Macen gently cajoled her.

"I have a mission for you." Drake answered.

"What kind of mission?" Macen wondered.

"What do you know about the Ekosians and the Zeons?" Drake enquired.

"The Nazi planet and its neighbour?" Macen asked.

"Parties of Miradorn raiders have been coming out of the Ekosian star system and attacking passing shipping." Drake explained, "The system is sanctioned in order to prevent any more cultural contamination by representatives of the Federation. That means the regular fleet can't investigate but you can."

"Do you know if the population still follows a National Socialistic ideal?" Macen enquired.

"The last cultural observer left that area ten years ago." Drake described, "At that time a democratically elected Nazi Party was still in power. Zeon's government had a coalition Nazi and native government. The locals were flitting about the solar system in impulse driven craft."

"And now there's Miradorn raiders in the area." Macen recalled.

"Exactly." Drake confirmed, "Will you look into it?"

"Of course we will." Macen promised, "I'll need a week to reassemble the _Obsidian's _crew."

Drake shook her head, "No. We're sending you in aboard a Q-ship the Special Project Yards people have developed."

"What kind of Q-ship?" Macen asked.

"A modified Bajoran freighter christened the _Loki_." Drake answered, "She's got more firepower than the _Obsidian_ and almost the same sensor capability."

"I like the name." Macen mused.

"I thought you would. She's being brought here as part of a cargo run. It should arrive within the week. After the mission, the ship will belong to Outbound Ventures, Inc." Drake assured him. She fell silent for a moment and then brightened, "I forgot to tell you the rest of the news."

"Which is?" Macen sceptically asked.

"The exclusivity clause of your contract has been amended." Drake happily reported, "You can now accept outside contracts that I approve of."

"Well, gee, thanks." Macen dryly remarked.

"Don't knock yourself out with gratitude or anything." Drake said sourly.

"I'm basically still your lap dog but now I get to take other people's latinum as well." Macen wryly explained his position. He brightened suddenly, "Does this mean I can double bill?"

Drake rubbed her forehead, "You've certainly taken to capitalism like a Ferengi to latinum."

"There's nothing worse than a communist dabbling in capitalistic waters." Macen grinned.

"The Federation isn't communistic." Drake said in horror.

"No." Macen agreed, "It's socialistic."

"And trillions are happier for it." Drake insisted.

"Which is why it works." Macen added.

Drake waited and waited. Finally she couldn't take it any more, "Where's the gibe, wisecrack, or barb?"

Macen shook his head, "Amanda, you wound me. My people were communists. Property ownership was unheard of in my culture. I find the Federation's brand of socialism to be a beneficial compromise between extremes."

"But you're operating on Barrinor." Drake pointed out, "How can you endorse the Federation's economics when you live under a competing system?"

"My employees' needs are met." Macen explained, "Most of their desires are met as well. How well the splurges are accommodated depends upon work performance. Everyone earns a Basic Living Stipend. Perks are earned the old fashioned way…through sweat."

"What about the disabled?" Drake wondered.

"The incapacitated are given a comprehensive benefits package." Macen assured her, "They earn their full salary and have all medical expenses provided for."

"What about Parva?" Drake enquired, "You've put her to work."

"Anyone that wants to work will have a place carved out for them." Macen replied, "Half of our administrative staff is comprised of disabled ships' crew."

"How is Parva doing?" Drake asked with genuine concern.

"Well," Macen's eyes danced mischievously, "today she's doing great."

Drake chuckled, "I meant how is she doing in general and you know it."

"Her condition would improve if she'd allow Kort to replace her heart with an artificial one." Macen said with more than a hint of frustration.

"She still has her organic heart?" a disbelieving Drake asked.

Macen nodded, "Apparently it's a taboo amongst Orions to use biosynthetics to replace organs or limbs. The philosophy takes 'survival of the fittest' to its ugliest extremes."

"Would they kill one of their own if he or she were crippled?" Drake had to ask.

"They would _if_ it was a permanent affliction." Macen replied.

Drake looked horrified. Macen smiled, "That's why it's better that she's with us."

"If she's violating her people's ethos by staying alive why doesn't she go just a centimetre further and replace her heart?" Drake wondered.

"I really don't think she's thought too much about it either way." Macen admitted, "She's been focused on relearning enough technical skills to qualify as a maintenance tech and on her recent wedding."

"Has she requalified?" Drake was almost afraid to ask.

"She's the chief repair technician for Outbound Ventures' HQ." Macen smiled, "If she'd replace her heart, I'd certify her to work on the orbital drydock."

"Does she know that?" Drake enquired.

"It's been mentioned." Macen wore a wry expression, "She said that she's happy with the way things are."

"You can't argue with happiness." Drake sighed.

"Sure you can." Macen grumped, "Happiness leads to assimilation by the Borg."

"The Federation has beaten the Borg back twice and we're happy." Drake argued.

"You're content, Amanda." Macen rebutted, "Underlying that contentment, though, is a gnawing restlessness. It isn't good enough for you to stay within your proscribed borders, mental and physical. You want to know the unknowable, to see the farthest star, and to reach out and grasp infinity. That's what keeps you ahead of the Borg."

"And your people?" Drake had to ask. Even after eighty-plus years, the El-Aurians were a mystery.

"We had walked amongst the stars and grew complacent. We thought we'd evolved beyond the strife of the surrounding universe." Macen's expression was hard and bitter, "We were wrong."

Drake was pensive for a moment and then she spoke with resolution, "After you give up this life of crime, you should share your people's history with the Alpha Quadrant."

"I'll share that and more." Macen promised, "There are some metaphysical techniques and philosophies that I'd like to share as well."

"You're thinking about leaving the SID?" Drake asked with some horror.

"I won't stay beyond the duration of my present team." Macen informed her, "Most of them are pairing off now. Soon they'll want to start families."

"Not all of them." Drake assured him, "Some of us can be paired off without reproducing."

"True." Macen mused, "But they're getting older."

"So are you," Drake retorted, "_even_ though it doesn't look that way right now."

"But at nowhere near the same rate." Macen countered, "Comparatively, I'll have aged a few years when they reach their next couple of decades. They'll all retire by then."

"You could always assemble a new team." Drake offered.

"And maybe I will." Macen conceded, "Teaching is my long term goal. Everything up to that point is in flux."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed." Drake said.

"Why?" Macen was perplexed.

Drake laughed, "Ask your pop culture queen. She'll know."

Macen smiled but he still shook his head. T'Kir's fascination with current and classical popular culture was a mystery to him. There were times when all he understood out of her was the gist of what she was saying and that was _with _sharing a telepathic rapport with her. All he knew for certain was that she never failed to liven up a conversation.

Drake snapped her fingers, "Barrinor to Macen. Wake up."

Macen sheepishly grinned, "Sorry. Thinking about T'Kir."

"More power to you." Drake encouraged him, "As for me, I have to go surprise my sister."

"You haven't told her you're here? What are you going to tell her?" Macen wondered.

"About why I've been crying?" Macen nodded and Drake let loose of a bitter laugh, "I'll tell her the truth. It'll be easier with the second telling."

Macen doubted it but he didn't want to discourage Drake's catharsis, "You'll do fine."

Drake rose and made for the door. When she reached it, she looked back over her shoulder, "Thank you. I couldn't have done this without you."

"You say that now." Macen pooh-pahhed.

"No, Brin. I'm grateful." Drake admitted and then suddenly grew fierce, "But if word of this gets out, I'll murder you."

"My sense of self preservation will guide me." He assured her.

"I don't suppose you could forgo telling your wife?" Drake enquired.

"Not a chance." Macen laughed.

"Damn." Drake grumped.

"Amanda, Shannon is waiting for you." Macen reminded her.

"Mmm?" Drake was lost in thought.

"That's polite speak for 'get out'." Macen prodded.

"Oh!" Drake's attention was back on this planet, "Shannon. Right. See you!"

As the door closed, Macen shook his head but he wore a broad smile. Amanda Drake _was _human after all. As much as he loathed her pain, her newfound sense of vulnerability was good for her. He wondered what the future had in store for her. Her path to her sister's was clear but then the Currents muddied around her and all he could see was trouble ahead.


	4. Chapter 4

"My dear Annika," B'nner took her hand and held it aloft as she descended from the runabout, "it is agreeable to see you again."

Ryst adopted a submissive mien… but not too submissive. Orion males lived to dominate. Although Ryst would die before breaking, she didn't advertise the fact. They also didn't want to just be handed the conquest.

"What are your plans, Lord?" Ryst meekly asked.

B'nner chuckled low in his throat, "Come now, Annika. We both know that you could, and would, slay everyone present before you would submit."

A coy smile crept across Ryst's features, "Do you have such a profound lack of faith in your personal guard?"

B'nner eyed the arrayed men and women standing behind him and shook his head, "I don't trust their chances against _you_."

Ryst wore a sly grin, "I know who I would place my latinum on."

"As would I." B'nner studied her for a moment longer then ushered her on, "Please follow me. Tomorrow we have much to discus."

"What about tonight?" Ryst asked, "We could…"

B'nner held up one bony finger, "Tonight you learn the rewards of silence and loyalty. Your every whim is about to be indulged my dear. Enjoy it."

* * *

Joachim Dracas had spent the last week on Earth. More to the point, he'd spent the last week on Earth with Kiv Rever. Rever had been the partner of Hal Dracas, the man Joachim was cloned from. That being the case, Rever had taken Dracas under his wing, showing the same paternalistic concern for Joachim as the Nova Roman Emperor Alaric was wont to have.

Rever had gently but firmly guided Dracas through the intricacies of modern Terran life. Despite the occasional wound that his pride suffered, Dracas was eternally grateful for Rever's coaching. Truth be told, he'd had the time of his very short life. Now that was threatening to come to an end…

"I don't know why you're so reluctant to come with me tonight." Rever said as he was pulling on his jacket.

"This meeting is for lost Federation soldiers." Dracas insisted, "It is not fitting that I attend."

"_This _meeting is for the bereaved survivors who've lost a family member or loved one in Starfleet." Rever corrected him, "Both you and I qualify. Hal's dead and he was in Starfleet."

"But I didn't know him." Dracas protested.

"It doesn't matter, Joachim." Rever put his hand on Dracas' shoulder, "You've lost an entire empire. I've seen the haunted look in your eyes that you get when you think no one is watching. You deserve to attend this meeting as well as anyone else."

"Besides," Rever brightened, "it's full of cute guys."

Dracas was aghast, "You're not seriously thinking of…"

Rever shook his head, "It's too soon for me. However, there are a few people that have healed and are still there. They're mentoring the freshly bereaved but some of them should move on."

"I would be honoured if you shared this event with me." Rever quietly pleaded, "It would be cathartic. Your presence has helped me lay most of Hal's ghost to rest. This would be the final step."

Dracas mulled it over, "All right. I'll come. I will share this moment with you."

"Good!" Rever reached into the closet and retrieved Dracas' coat, "Dress warmly. It's going to be chilly tonight."

"I do know how to dress myself." Dracas harrumphed.

"Sorry." Rever winced, "Being a stepdad to a grown son is all new to me."

"I can imagine." Dracas put his coat on, "I do not know how to make it any easier."

"Just be yourself, Joachim." Rever requested, "All I want is for you to be happy."

"Perhaps tonight will be the beginning of my future happiness." Dracas opined.

"That's what I'm hoping for." Rever said enigmatically as they left the flat.

* * *

"Rab?" Parva sought Daggit as she returned to their townhome.

"In here." Daggit called from the kitchen. Parva walked towards the sound _and _smells. She noticed the spicy aromas as she neared the open door leading to the kitchen area. Upon entering, she saw Daggit stuffing peppers. A selection of stuffed mushrooms was already laid out.

Daggit looked up and broadly grinned, "How's the working woman?"

"What are you doing?" Parva giggled.

"I'm making you dinner." Daggit replied, "It only seems fair. I've had the week off and you've gone to work everyday. I wanted today to be special."

"Are you marinating strips of meat?" Parva asked in wonder as she stole glances everywhere.

"For the kebobs." Daggit proudly explained, "I have the grill set and ready to go. We have Irrilean Curry to go along with everything."

"This is wonderful!" Parva exclaimed, "When did you learn how to cook?"

"My Starfleet unit was based off of _DS9_ during the Dominion War." Daggit explained, "Captain Sisko held a cooking class to help bolster morale. He featured Creole cooking but he also branched out to other styles such as tonight's feast."

"This so unexpected I don't know if I want to make my announcement." Parva blurted out.

Daggit stopped everything, "What announcement?"

Parva put her hands behind her back, bit her lower lip, and swished one of her feet around, "I've been thinking about my situation."

"And?" Daggit was growing unsettled.

"I want to have the heart transplant surgery." It all came out in a rush.

"I thought you were happy." Daggit said.

"I was." Parva looked vaguely disappointed, "Now I'm not." Parva looked uncertain, "Are you upset? Do you want me to skip the surgery?"

Daggit broke into a loving smile, "I want you to do what makes you happy."

"I want to have the surgery." Parva firmly declared.

"Let's call Kort and arrange it." Daggit went to the sink and washed his hands. Meeting Parva in the middle of the room, he took her hand and led her to the comm unit.

Parva sat down and reminded herself of how to activate it. She'd relearned the sequence but it constantly slipped her mind. Having successfully activated the comm and selected Kort's comm signature, she placed the call.

The screen showed a tri-tipped Klingon symbol. After several seconds, Kort's face appeared. Recognising his caller, he brightened.

"Parva!" he happily called out, "How nice to see you."

"Hello Kort." Parva replied, "Is that pretty lady still with you?"

"You mean Hayley?" Kort asked.

Parva nodded, "I can never remember her name."

"Yes, Hayley is here." Kort confirmed.

"I need her help." Parva decided to level with Kort.

"How can Hayley help you?" Kort was growing concerned.

"You said that if I wanted to replace my heart that she'd be the one to have do it." Parva explained.

"You've decided to have your heart replaced?" Kort wanted to verify what Parva was saying.

"Yes." Parva nodded again.

"Wait a moment." Kort insisted and he stepped away from the comm. Hayley Galloway sat down and filled the screen.

"Hello Parva." Galloway warmly smiled, "I'm pleased that you want to maximise your health. Changing your heart will revolutionise your life."

Parva beamed, "That's what I want. I don't want to be afraid any more."

"Well," Galloway grinned, "We'll see what we can do."

Galloway turned her head, nodded, and returned her focus to Parva, "Can you stop by the infirmary in the Olympus Mons Hospital tomorrow?"

"It would have to be after work." Parva replied.

Galloway listened to a barely discernable voice and then smiled, "You've just been written a prescription. You have tomorrow off with orders to visit the hospital."

"I can be there when the building opens." Parva eagerly informed her, "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to measure your chest cavity." Galloway explained, "After that, we're going to get an appropriately sized artificial heart. Once we have that, we'll prep you for surgery and take out your old heart."

"Wow." Parva said with childlike wonder.

"I think so too." Galloway confided, "You just said it better."

Parva's cheeks darkened, "You're so nice."

Galloway laughed, "I'm glad you think so. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Nope." Parva giddily informed her, "I have to go now. Rab is cooking."

"You're lucky." Galloway said conspiratorially, "I either have to use the replicator or eat raw Klingon food."

"You could come here." Parva offered.

"Thanks sweetie." Galloway graced her with a radiant smile, "There are other reasons to stay."

"Oh," Parva caught her meaning, "I'll say bye then."

"See you tomorrow." Galloway signed off.

"So," Daggit wore a playful smile, "do you want to change clothes and help finish dinner?"

"I'd rather watch." Parva grinned.

"You still need to shower and change." Daggit urged, "You smell like burnt conduit."

"Yeah." Parva agreed as she put the comm on standby, "Hannah and T'Kir burned out the new impulse manifold in the pirate ship."

"The pirate ship?" Daggit mirthfully.

"The runabout." Parva said over her shoulder as she walked into their bedroom, "I can never remember its name."

"The _Corsair_." Daggit called out.

"Yeah, that's the one." Parva called back.

Daggit thought about going to the kitchen and then reconsidered it. He followed in Parva's wake. He entered the bedroom to find her stripped down to a black lace bra and matching bikini brief panties. Of course, her leg braces were present as well.

The same wound that had damaged Parva's heart had also created critical blood loss. She'd suffered brain damage as well as a permanent cardiac injury. That accounted for Parva's memory loss and her ongoing difficulties with remembering select information. Also lost were some fine motor skills. She'd regained the full use of her hands through physical therapy. Her legs had proven more resistant and it seemed that she could very well be restricted to using braces for the rest of her life.

"What's wrong?" a semi-nude Parva broke his reverie, "You look sad."

Daggit cheered right up, "Sorry. I was just thinking of how we rarely get to have an evening like tonight."

"We'll never get a chance to eat our dinner if you don't go back and finish cooking it." Parva scolded.

"Let me take one last look at you." Daggit drank in the sight of her and grinned, "_Now_ I can finish dinner."

Parva giggled, "You're silly."

"Alas, only now does she discover the truth." Daggit said in a martyred tone as he made to leave.

Parva blew him a raspberry as he passed through the door. Although her braces were powered, they still responded more stiffly than her legs should have. As such her attempt to glide into the walk-in closet was more of a stumble. Parva frowned and began looking at her selections. She wanted to impress Daggit. After several minutes of looking, she found what she wanted. Holding it up to herself in the mirror, she wore a triumphant smile.

* * *

"I thought you said that Parva wouldn't submit to the surgery." Galloway said as she returned to the couch. She sifted a half emptied glass of spring wine.

Kort sat beside her. He retrieved his abandoned mug of _raktajino_ and took a sip from it. He was delighted to learn that it was still warm. He knew Macen could drink cold coffee but Kort refused to unless the situation was desperate.

Kort shook his head, "Something must have happened to change her mind. It would have required something significant."

"She did say that she didn't want to live in fear any more." Galloway pointed out, "Do you suppose something happened to accentuate that feeling?"

"Parva only remembers a fraction of her total life but she what does remember of it she remembers a woman that was vital, in full possession of herself, a risk taker." Kort recounted sadly, "Now she is a ghost of her former self."

"I think we'd better find out what triggered her change of heart." Galloway insisted, "If it's what I think it is we may have to move up our schedule."

"Hayley, my dear, I was supposed to wine and dine you tonight." Kort grumbled and then held up his hands in response to her glare, "All right. She spent the day at Outbound Ventures Headquarters. Let's play back the security logs and see what happened."

Kort moved to the computer/comm station and accessed the network. He pulled up Parva's file and instructed the computer to play back the security logs and display Parva's whereabouts. He then set the computer to replay at 4X speed.

Parva's day whirred past. She'd made dozens of minor repairs and then Grace tapped her for a repair on the _Corsair_. Galloway asked that the playback speed be cut in half. Grace and T'Kir happily exited the runabout's main hatch and after they'd disappeared Parva appeared.

She was in obvious distress. Kort dropped the playback speed to normal and moved it back to when Parva first exited the runabout. She had laboured breathing and suddenly clutched her chest and her face was screwed up from the pain. She staggered on her way to the industrial replicator and had to lean against it for over ten minutes.

Finally, the pain eased off and Parva relaxed. Her breathing was still laboured but it wasn't coming in gasps any more. As her body settled down, she replicated an impulse manifold and lugged it back to the _Corsair_. With one final look around to see that no one had witnessed these events, Parva entered the runabout and disappeared for almost an hour. When Parva reappeared, she was obviously exhausted but she exited the HQ like nothing had happened.

"Damn her!" Kort thundered, "I've told her and I've told her: call me if _anything _happens. She has a damned cardiac arrest and blithely goes about her business as though nothing's wrong."

Galloway frowned and stood with her fists firmly planted on her hips, "Calm down Kort. I doubt that this was the first time."

"_That's _what infuriates me." Kort declared, "Any of these times she could have died. What has she been thinking?"

"Probably that she's seen too much of folks like you and I recently." Galloway opined.

"I don't…" Kort blustered then stopped in mid-sentence, "You're probably right."

"At least you can admit it." Galloway playfully teased, "The question is: what do we do about it?"

"We have to take her to Olympus Mons right away. It is the best facility on Barrinor and I am a consulting physician so we will receive access to the necessary equipment." Kort decided.

"What's your consulting speciality?" Galloway was curious.

"Trauma." Kort grimly replied.

"Should we call first?" Galloway wondered.

"Yes." Kort adamantly nodded his head, "We'll get resistance if we just arrive in person."

"There goes dinner." Galloway sighed.

"I am truly sorry." Kort replied, "You don't have to attend."

"Like hell I don't." Galloway snapped, "I don't know about you but this doctor's always on duty."

"As am I." Kort said with a broad smile, "Come let us conquer death together."

"Damn straight!" Galloway cheered. Just then, Kort's comm badge started chirping. Kort picked it up and pressed his thumb against it.

"What?"

"Kort, it's Macen." Came the disembodied reply.

Kort winced, "How can I help you, Captain?"

"I need you to come to Olympus Mons." Macen requested, "We have a medical emergency."

"I already have a medical emergency." Kort replied, "Parva needs an immediate heart transplant."

"Has she agreed?" Macen wondered.

"Just today." Kort informed him.

"Stay with that." Macen instructed, "All our best. Macen out."

"He's mighty cooperative." Galloway observed.

"Not always." Kort ruefully informed her, "But he has been very worried about Parva. We all have been."

Galloway leaned in close and kissed Kort on the cheek. Kort touched where her lips had been and looked utterly confused.

"Why did you do that?" he wanted to know.

"You care about them…your team, I mean." Galloway tried to explain, "It's almost like they're family."

Kort drew himself in preparation of an argument. Taking a second to reconsider, he had to admit Galloway had a point. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Wow." She breathed, "I don't know what happened but you just ran the emotional gamut."

Kort sheepishly grinned, "I was going to argue with you…"

"_But_?" Galloway prompted.

"But I realised that, in essence, you are correct." Kort admitted, "Of all of us, only Tom Riker and Lisea Danan have any contact with their relatives…_if_ they have any living relatives."

"Your Captain and his wife don't have any living relatives, do they?" Galloway asked.

"They have no cultural peers at all as well." Kort added, "The rest of us have been driven into exile either by choice or by circumstance."

Galloway frowned, "I'm glad I'm a surgeon and not a psychiatrist. I think I could make a profession out of you lot."

"Come," Kort insisted, "Parva needs us."

"Let me put my sweater on and I'll be right with you." Galloway promised.

* * *

Although it was barely into the early evening, the Soho weather had turned quite brisk. Rever and Dracas' breath puffed out while they walked. It reminded Dracas of a tour he'd taken of Germania during the late fall season of the Magna Roman's northern hemisphere. Dracas could see why Alaric Germanicus loved his native land.

Dracas had recently asked Macen how the office of the Federation's President had come to be. Macen had diligently explained the process that had created the position. He had then followed up with a question of his own.

"Why did the position of Emperor replace that of the Roman Proconsul?" Macen innocently asked.

"The Proconsul had become weak." Dracas fired off, "His election by the Senate meant that he could be swayed by political masters. The Emperor rose from the ranks of the Legions and is beholding to no one."

"What about the Legions?" Macen asked, "If the Emperor's power begins with the Legions, doesn't it end there as well?"

Dracas had frowned, "You're trying to confuse me."

"I'm trying to make you weigh all of the evidence." Macen had explained, "Sometimes that's confusing."

"Yet you offered me a singular view of your own politics." Dracas accused.

Macen laughed, "I offered you a piece of a very large puzzle. It's up to you to find the answer. I can show you where to look but you have to find your own answers."

It was advice that Dracas had opted to apply to his entire life. Take going to this support group. He thought he might find a piece of his puzzle here.

_Whatever else this shall be, _Dracas thought, _it should be interesting._


	5. Chapter 5

Macen, T'Kir and Grace hurried into Olympus Mons' main reception area. A frazzled looking Amanda Drake was pacing near the entrance and immediately recognised their entrance. She purposefully strode to them.

"We came as soon as we could, Amanda." Macen explained, "What's going on? What's happened to Shannon?"

"That's what I'd like to know." Drake growled.

"Calm down." Macen sternly ordered, "Take a seat and tell us what's been going on up until now."

Drake looked ready to argue and then her shoulders sagged, "The waiting area is this way."

Macen had never seen Drake close to defeat before. He decided that it was an unsettling sight. Drake stopped at the replicator and got herself some coffee. Macen and T'Kir followed her lead. Grace ordered tea and sat down with the rest. Noticing Drake's pointed stare, Grace made to rise.

"I can leave." She offered.

"No." Drake said forcefully. A second later she said more gently, "Shannon puts a lot of stock in you. You might know something the rest of us don't."

"I'm flattered." Grace settled into her seat, "But I barely know Commander Forger."

"Amanda," Macen was growing more concerned with every passing moment, "what's happened?"

"When I arrived at Shannon's she wouldn't open the door. I kept buzzing her until the door opened. What I saw terrified me." Drake recalled, "I've never seen her skin to sallow or her eyes so swollen, red, and sunken. She shambled about like a lifeless creature."

Drake thought about it and revised her statement, "I shouldn't say lifeless. She was still animated enough to be obsessed with one reoccurring theme."

"Which was?" Macen prompted.

"She wanted to get to your ship, to the _Obsidian,_ and see your EMH." Drake elaborated, "She wanted her prescription refilled."

"What kind of prescription?" Macen asked, "Why couldn't she see a local doctor?"

"It made me suspicious too." Drake admitted, "I asked her those same questions. She handed me this bottle in reply to the first." Drake handed Macen a bottle, "And all she would say about the other was that the EMH wouldn't ask questions. She'd arranged that."

"Amanda," Macen held Drake's gaze, "this was a bottle of Cetryn."

"I know." Drake sagged.

"What's Cetryn?" T'Kir wanted to know.

"It's a stimulant." Macen explained, "It stimulates the brain's production of dopamine. The dopamine makes one hypomanic. That means they're more alert, quicker mentally, require less sleep, and their metabolism is sped up. The bad part is that when a person enters hypomania they also become megalomaniacal and hyper aggressive. The sensation is also addictive even of the drugs aren't."

"Shannon collapsed shortly after I arrived and I called the paramedics." Drake finished telling the tale, "I left messages with you but I had to contact Christine so that she could page you."

Christine Pike was Outbound Ventures' liaison with the SID. A former Starfleet administrative officer, she knew how to navigate the bureaucracy that Macen detested. In her "spare" time, she was the corporate Operations officer.

"Sorry about that Amanda." Macen was sincere, "We went to the wildlife preserve for the afternoon."

"Wildlife?" Drake snorted, "What wildlife? This planet was devoid of life before it was terraformed."

"They brought animals in." T'Kir said defensively, "Everybody loves cuddly critters. There's even a tribble petting zoo."

"Do the rangers know what they're dealing with?" Drake asked in horror.

"Yup." T'Kir said gleefully, "Every night the whole population is left out for the predators to have at and every day there's baby tribbles left over."

"The system is surprisingly efficient." Macen added, "The predators aren't fed at all and they're contained in order to prevent them from hunting. All they get are tribble snacks."

"Damn Sisko." Drake grumbled, "By the time Starfleet knew anything about the tribbles reintroduced from the past, it was too late to do anything about it."

"Aww," T'Kir wheedled, "But they're cute."

Drake gave up, "What do you know about your EMH? Does she prescribe medications that aren't needed?"

"Tessa has been having memory glitches lately." Grace piped up.

"I checked that." T'Kir reminded her, "Nothing in her program had been deleted or corrupted."

"What about added?" Grace wondered.

"Shannon is an expert in holoprogramming." Drake revealed, "If she added anything to the EMH program, it would look like it's always been there."

"Damn it!" T'Kir snarled as she leapt to her feet, "C'mon Sweetie, we're goin' to the ship."

"Do I have to?" Grace moaned as she rose and started to follow T'Kir out.

"C'mon!" T'Kir called back, "We can take the _Corsair_ up. It'll give you a chance to test everything but maximum impulse."

"Well, we already know max impulse has crapped out." Grace replied, "When's Dracas getting back?"

At this point they were outside and well out of earshot. Drake expectantly looked to Macen, "When is Kort arriving?"

"Soon." Macen said, "But he has an emergency of his own. Parva's heart is giving out."

"She's opting for the surgery?" Drake asked hopefully.

"She is." Macen assured her.

"Thank God." Drake sighed, "At least something is going right today."

"Where's Shannon now?" Macen enquired.

"I'll show you." Drake wearily rose and began to head deeper into the hospital's recesses.

* * *

Kort pressed the door chime again. Galloway took hold of hand, "Relax. They'll answer."

The door slid open and Daggit wore a surprised expression, "Kort, Ms. Galloway, this is a surprise."

"It's Hayley." Galloway bestowed her warmest smile upon Daggit.

"All right Hayley, what are you two doing here?" Daggit was getting suspicious.

"We are here in a professional capacity." Kort assured him.

"Is this about Parva's heart?" Daggit asked.

"Yes." Kort gravely replied, "Her heart is beginning to fail. We need to operate tonight."

"What makes you think that?" Daggit wanted to know.

"Rab? Who is it?" Parva appeared in the hall and suddenly looked distinctly guilty.

"Parva?" Daggit lost any and all certainty.

"Parva," Kort spoke gently, "we've reviewed the headquarters' security logs for today. We know you had a heart attack. You've probably had more, correct?"

Parva shuffled her feet and stared at the floor with her hands clasped behind her back. Daggit coaxed her out of it and Parva nodded, "It started two weeks ago. Today was the worst."

"That's what I thought." Kort murmured.

Daggit was stunned, "Why didn't you say anything?"

Parva graced him with a sweet, innocent smile, "I didn't want to worry you while I decided what to do."

"But you've decided to undergo the surgery." Daggit didn't quite ask, "Are you certain?"

"Completely." Parva happily nodded, "I don't want to leave you."

Daggit wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, "I don't want you to go."

"So when do we do this?" Daggit ask the doctors.

"Now." Kort said, "The surgical unit is prepared and a selection of hearts is standing by."

"Can I grab a change of clothes?" Parva wondered.

"You won't need them." Kort insisted.

"She changes clothes." Daggit demanded.

"Oh, very well." An exasperated Kort relented.

A few minutes later Parva came bounding back to the doorway wearing a loose fitting pair of sweats, "I'm ready!"

"We have a car waiting." Galloway informed the couple, "You can catch a ride with us."

Parva squeezed Daggit's arm, "Isn't this exciting?"

Daggit granted her a gentle smile, "I guess it is."

"Can we go now?" Kort prodded. Galloway swung the medkit she'd been holding behind her back forward. Seeing Daggit's glare, she smiled and shrugged.

The doctors led the couple to their waiting aircar and they all boarded it. With a word, the car went sailing towards Olympus Mons. They arrived to find the surgical team ready to receive them. Daggit caught Kort by the arm.

"Do what you can." He pleaded.

"Do not fear." Kort assured him, "Hayley is the finest surgeon in the sector."

"I'll be holding you to that." Daggit replied.

"I have to go now, Rab." Kort gently pried Daggit's fingers off of his arm, "They need me."

"Right." Daggit murmured. He returned to the waiting area and perused its offerings. A viewer displayed local entertainment vids. The replicators could serve meals and drinks. A computer/communications station sat by. Padds were offered for guests to download reading material. Daggit ignored all of the amenities and began to wander the halls.

Daggit's worst fear was coming to life. He'd almost lost her today. Today and a few more besides. Daggit didn't know if he could continue without Parva.

It was a legitimate concern. Parva brought out the best in him. She'd helped him reconnect with his forgotten humanity. He'd have to forgo all of that in order to survive her death. He'd truly become a soulless killing machine.

He didn't know how long or how far he'd wandered when he came upon Macen and Drake standing outside a patient's room. They seemed deeply engrossed in a conversation and Daggit intended to pass them by. Drake's eyes lit up with recognition. Macen turned.

"Rab!" Macen blurted, "How's Parva?"

* * *

It was early evening and everyone was filtering out of the support group's time shared meeting place. Everyone but Dracas and his newfound friend. Stan Guthrie was an attendee of sorts and Rever had made the introduction. As Dracas had already discovered, Guthrie's husband had died eight years ago during the Dominion War. Guthrie had attended these meetings for years, as well as his Starfleet duties would allow, and only came now to mentor and console the freshly bereaved.

"So you're from Magna Roma?" Guthrie incredulously asked.

"You know of my world?" Dracas was surprised by Guthrie's interest.

"Of course." Guthrie's enthusiasm was undiminished, "Everyone in Starfleet has heard of your world and its recent discovery."

"Recent…?" Dracas was flabbergasted, "Your Captain Kirk encountered Magna Roma over a century ago."

"That's impossible." Guthrie shook his head, "There'd be records."

"There are." Dracas assured him, "Just as there are records of Captain Macen's visits."

"You've pluralized them." Guthrie noted

"That is because he visited my world shortly after your great war." _And before I was born, _Dracas carefully omitted, "Then again the following year and finally he came to us shortly before our revelation to the Federation at large."

"Is this Macen _Brin _Macen?" Guthrie asked.

"Yes." Dracas affirmed, "He is my commander here in the Federation."

"You're SID?" Guthrie was surprised.

"Yes. What of it?" Dracas asked a tad defensively.

"I'm SOC." When Dracas didn't recognise the acronym, Guthrie elaborated, "I'm a member of Starfleet's Special Operations Command. You might say we serve kindred divisions."

"Yes," Dracas nodded, "the Captain has told me of you and your exploits."

"Not me personally." Guthrie demurred.

"You are part of a cadre; the glory of one is the glory of all." Dracas said firmly.

"Are you two done?" Rever asked as he approached. He wore a sly smile.

"Actually, I was hoping to share Joachim's company for a while yet." Guthrie said and he looked at Dracas, "Would you mind?"

"I would be honoured to," Dracas looked to Rever, "would you be all right with this?"

"I'd give my left leg to see you on a date." Rever grinned, "Go out and have some fun."

"Thank you." Dracas said appreciatively. As he and Guthrie were exiting the building, Rever overheard Dracas ask Guthrie, "What's a 'date'?"

* * *

Shannon Forger limply lay on the biobed. Most of her readings were still strong and vital. Those that were showing signs of fatigue and depletion hovered above non-existence. Forger herself was insensate. Drake led Macen back out of the room.

"What's the prognosis?" Macen quietly asked in the hallway.

"Guarded but optimistic." Drake recited from memory, "All indications are that she hasn't permanently altered her neurochemistry _but_ that's based upon preliminary readings. She's been on Cetryn for nearly a year."

"If Starfleet didn't administer Cetryn in the field, she would never have known about it." Macen pointed out.

"I know." Drake spat, "We promote it as being non-habit forming and harmless after a few night's sleep."

"I think it would be best to send her to rehab." Macen suggested.

"She isn't addicted to it." Drake protested.

"Maybe not physically but she is addicted to it emotionally and mentally. She needs to be somewhere where she can spend the next ninety days relearning how to live without the stimulants."

Drake mulled it over and finally she nodded in agreement, "You'll be busy so I'll bring her back to Earth with me and place her in a suitable program."

"One at least ninety days long." Macen insisted.

"I'll make that a stipulation with the counsellors." Drake promised. She saw movement over Macen's shoulder and she recognised Rab Daggit shambling up to them.

Macen followed her line of sight. Daggit was an emotional mess. Macen hardly needed his empathic senses to confirm that diagnosis. _It has to be about Parva_, Macen surmised.

"Rab!" Macen said in as upbeat a tone as he could muster, "How's Parva?"

Daggit stared at Macen with hollow eyes, "She's going to die."

Macen took Daggit by the shoulders and evenly met Daggit's gaze, "She's going to live, Rab. Even if she doesn't, if she's like the rest of this team, she'll come back to life again."

Daggit was totally perplexed. Macen turned him around and started him down the hallway, "Let me stay with you, Rab. We'll sit there together and wait for Parva's surgery to be over."

"Amanda, I'll talk to you later." Macen called back over his shoulder.

The last thing Drake heard from Macen was his exhortation to Daggit to talk to him. Drake shook her head. Macen was having quite the day. First a distraught CO, then a drug addled XO, followed up by a grief and worry stricken Special Operations Specialist. Drake was wondering how he was pulling everyone together. The legends of the Listeners were true, she realised.

She wondered who Macen would turn to if T'Kir were to die. For now, it would most likely be Ro Laren. They had a bond forged in fire and blood. But after she passed on, who did that leave. Drake suddenly realised both Macen and T'Kir would outlive everyone they knew by at least two hundred years. Presumably longer for Macen. He would bury his wife and still face another century's worth of life. She wondered how he faced that every day.

Macen would start facing the end of his friend's lives over the next fifty years. Alynna Nechayev, barring a McCoy-like endurance, would die then. Riker would follow. Daggit, Radil, Danan, and Dracas would be next. Ro would fail. If Grace followed human norms, she could see another seventy years worth of life. Kort would be the last to fade.

Macen would have to reconstruct his life. It was no wonder he wanted to retired when his teammates did. It would be his last chance to enjoy them.

Drake had to shake herself. Such thoughts were maudlin and she had enough troubles of her own. The realisations did make her appreciate her troublesome agent all the more. The next eighty years would be hard on T'Kir and him. She'd do all that she could to ease their burdens before those dark days arrived.

Having resolved to do one task she shifted her attention to a more pressing need. Retracing her steps, she returned to the waiting area next to the main entrance. The visitor's com/comm terminal was unattended so Drake sat down and began researching recovery clinics on Earth.

* * *

Daggit had poured out his turmoil upon Macen on their way back to the surgical unit. Macen, in turn had reassured Daggit that Parva would be fine. He sought the Currents surrounding this event and they were untroubled. Macen told Daggit as much.

"I've never put much faith in your mysticism," Daggit admitted, "but I've also seen you predict some wild things that have come true."

"Just give me the benefit of the doubt on this one, okay?" Macen urged.

"All right." Daggit agreed with some true hope in his voice, "Want anything from the replicator?" Daggit asked as he rose and crossed the room.

"A vanilla latte." Macen requested.

Daggit ordered Brillian spice tea for himself and brought Macen his coffee. Macen grinned, "I thought that was Parva's favourite drink."

Daggit looked flummoxed for a second and then he settled into a sheepish grin, "It is. I discovered that I like it too."

"Aren't our partners wonderful creatures?" Macen warmly smiled, "They introduce us to things we'd normally quail at."

"It is a wonder." Daggit chuckled.

The doors opened and Riker and Danan rushed headlong in. They wore casual wear and horrified expressions.

"My God!" Riker exclaimed, "Are we too late?"

Danan focused on Daggit, "Rab, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

Macen and Daggit exchanged a bewildered look. Danan turned bright scarlet and Riker heaved a sigh of relief, "Parva's not dead, is she?"

"No." Daggit said a tad defensively, "Why should she be?"

"Kort left a message on my com/comm. He said that Parva had suffered a major heart attack and was lapsing into terminal heart failure. We were afraid that the worst had happened." A still blushing Danan explained.

"Kort." Daggit growled through gritted teeth.

"As long as you're both here," Macen began to suggest, "you can help me keep Rab company."

"Of course." Riker enthusiastically agreed. Danan merely nodded and staked out chairs for her and Riker.

The conversation covered the actual events surrounding Parva's being in surgery. Next, it covered what everyone was doing with their day. Danan noted that Macen was conspicuously quiet. She was going to inquire as to what he was thinking when Radil burst into the scene.

"What the hell is going on?" the Bajoran demanded.

* * *

Grace and T'Kir had reached the _Obsidian's_ Sickbay. In it they found Tessa reading a book. She was quite happy to receive guests.

"How does that go again?" Tessa bit her lip and then brightened, "Oh! 'Please state the nature of the medical emergency.'"

T'Kir and Grace chuckled. The EMH looked inordinately pleased with herself. Grace glanced a peek at what Tessa was reading.

"Sherlock Holmes!" Grace exclaimed, "I love Arthur Conan Doyle!"

"Me too." Tessa bubbled, "The Captain loaned me the book and suggested that I read it."

T'Kir smirked, "Sounds like Brin."

"Doesn't it though?" Grace grinned. Taking Tessa by the arm, she led her away from the main computer access terminal, "So what do you like best about the book so far?"

"What's she doing?" Tessa nervously glanced back at T'Kir.

"It's okay, Honey." T'Kir assured her, "I'm just tracking down the glitches with your memory."

"I thought you said you couldn't find anything wrong." Tessa replied.

"I have a new lead." T'Kir explained, "I looked for deleted or corrupted files. I didn't search for ones that could have been added."

Tessa rolled this around in her mind. Finally, she nodded and wore a bright smile, "Okay. Begin your examination."

T'Kir chuckled, "You're learning humour from Kort."

Tessa drew herself up, "And if I am?"

"You need more variety in your repertoire." T'Kir advised, "I'll tell you what, Brin, Hannah and I will start spending more time in here and you'll get to see alternative forms of humour. Okay?"

"I'd appreciate that." Tessa confessed, "Kort's jokes rarely elicit any laughs."

"Remember," Grace took over, "humour has to come from the inside. You can't copy someone and expect to be funny. It has to be natural."

"How can I be natural when I'm artificial?" Tessa complained.

Both Grace and T'Kir laughed. Tessa was confused at first and then started to smile. Grace squeezed her arm.

"Now that was funny because it was natural." Grace informed her.

"I'm happy. Confused but happy." Tessa admitted.

"It's a start." Grace assured her, "Now tell me about the book…"

While Grace and Tessa compared notes on _The Hound of the Baskerville_ T'Kir buried herself in Tessa's holomatrix.


	6. Chapter 6

Having explained the situation to Radil, the group resumed their discussion on the day's activities. Daggit regaled them with the preparation of the dinner Kort and Hayley Galloway had interrupted. Riker and Danan spoke of a casual brunch followed a walk in the nearby meadowlands and a picnic dinner. Macen related how Grace had joined T'Kir and him for a hike though the massive wildlife preserve on the island continent of Brombique.

Danan felt Macen was leaving something out of his recitation but she chose to let it go. Finally, Radil explained that she'd been shopping. Danan brightened.

"With anyone?" she asked.

"Abby Collins." Radil replied nonchalantly.

Danan's internal sensors suddenly received a clear picture of the situation. Collins had an evident, visceral attraction to Radil. Radil, on the other hand, was harder to read. One moment she apparently reciprocated Collins' affections and in the next moment she appeared to share a platonic kinship with Collins. Danan wondered if Radil herself knew how she felt.

"What were you shopping for?" Danan enquired.

"Lingerie." Radil blurted out. She suddenly very aware of every eye being focused on her.

"What?" she demanded, "Can't I get a little girly?"

Danan took her by the hand, "Let's have a quiet chat outside."

Radil looked annoyed but she followed along. They stopped outside in the courtyard laid out before the entrance. Radil looked apprehensive so Danan attempted a level-headed approach.

"Jenrya, you _are_ aware of Abby's attraction to you, aren't you?" Danan asked.

"Of course I am." Radil grunted, "She told me herself."

"And how did you respond to this revelation?"

"I told her I'd think about it." Radil revealed.

"Have you ever been with another woman?" Danan decided blunt was the way to go here.

"Yes." Radil confessed, "Just before the Cardassians left, I had an affair with a fellow Resistance fighter. It lasted for several months."

"How did it end?" Danan wanted to know.

"She decided that she'd made a mistake and concentrated on the male members of our cell." Radil shrugged.

"How did that make you feel?" Danan asked.

Radil gave her a wary eye and Danan laughed, "Come on. This is serious."

Radil sighed, "I felt awkward and confused. It _was_ awkward. I was confused and hurt for a very long time. When that ended, I decided to give men a chance and never looked back."

"So you were only attracted to women before that?" Danan queried her.

"Yeah. So?" Radil was growing defensive.

"Jenrya, have you considered how you are around Abby?" Danan tried to refocus the discussion.

"I have a good time." Radil admitted.

"It's more than that." Danan pointed out, "You're genuinely happy. In fact, it's the first time I've seen you like that. Every time you're with Abby Collins you light up like life is suddenly worth living."

Radil was disquieted, "I don't think I want to talk about this any more."

"Can I ask one last question?" Danan earnestly asked.

"What?" Radil wearily replied.

"How old are you?" Danan wondered.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe a whole lot." Danan replied, "Humour me."

"I'm thirty-four." Radil answered, "Why? How old are you?"

"I'm forty-two." Danan answered, "But to answer your real question: you may be looking for a mate. Most Bajorans pair off after the age of thirty."

Radil scowled and Danan brushed the thought aside, "Just something to contemplate."

Radil studied the late night sky, "Can we go in now?"

"After you." Danan said in a chipper tone. Radil was aware of her behaviour. It may not have been placed in context before but _something _was working on her subconscious. Danan just hoped that she'd helped somehow.

* * *

Dracas and Guthrie had been talking now for three hours. The first hour had been after the close of the support group's meeting. After that, the pair had spent an hour at dinner. The last hour had been spent wandering the streets of New York City.

At first, tentatively, they broached the topic of their careers and their respective units while at dinner. Finding a great deal of common perspectives, the conversation drifted to their personal lives. Guthrie was delighted to learn that Dracas was a clone. He wanted to know what sort of paradigm one had when you were a duplicate of someone else.

Dracas frowned, "It was a moot point. My progenitor had left Nova Roma before I was created. All that matter was that clones are anathema on Magna Roma. If it were not for the graces of my Emperor, I would be a slave now."

Guthrie stopped. They were walking in Central Park, near the water, and at this time of night fewer and fewer people were about. Guthrie ran a hand through his close cropped hair and shook his head.

"Jesus." He grimaced, "First they create you and then they decide to enslave you. What kind of world do you come from?"

"In the Legions discipline is everything. Every facet of life is regimented. Who you can address, see socially, and eat with is regulated. There are Roman citizens, freemen and women, and slaves. Clones are beneath slaves. It is not a matter for debate. It is merely a fact."

"Let's keep moving." Guthrie suggested, "Tell me…"

* * *

"Aha!" T'Kir gleefully exclaimed, "I found it!"

"You found my memory glitch?" Tessa asked hopefully.

"Found it and deleted the subroutine patch that caused the problem." T'Kir met Tessa's eyes and intently looked into them, "Tessa, if Shannon Forger _ever_ tries to access your program, call Security."

"I could use a few of those self defence moves Chief Dracas has been showing me." Tessa eagerly suggested.

"You beat the crap outta her, Honey." T'Kir wore a feral grin, "Just call Security first."

"You betcha." Tessa sketched a salute.

"Been spending some quality time in here already?" Grace bemusedly asked T'Kir.

T'Kir impishly grinned, "You do what you gotta do."

"With you that generally means getting into trouble." Grace quipped.

"We each have a destiny." T'Kir brought her palms together and bowed at the waist.

Grace grinned, "Shouldn't you alert your husband, our captain, the illustrious light that leads us to the fact that you've fixed the problem?"

"I have taught you well, young grasshopper. Soon you will be ready to attain the true Zen of sarcasm." T'Kir proudly smiled.

"Now my heart can go on." Grace retorted.

Still smiling broadly, T'Kir hit her comm badge, "T'Kir to Macen."

* * *

Macen was listening to the others converse when his comm badge began to chirp. He ignored everyone else's surprised glances and tapped it, "Macen here."

"Hi, it's me." Came T'Kir's jubilant voice.

"I thought so. That's why I answered." Macen dryly replied.

"Listen mister, I just spent two hours poking around in a very complex holo program. Spare me the attitude." T'Kir huffed.

"Duly noted." Macen acknowledged, "Was the culprit who we thought?"

"Yup. The bypass was activated by a voice trigger. The voiceprint ID matched what we had on file." T'Kir reported, "Basically, it just confirms what we already knew."

"We had to be certain." Macen sighed, "When are you returning?"

"You're still there?" T'Kir was only partially surprised.

"Parva's undergoing a heart transplant." Macen explained, "We're helping Rab stand vigil."

"Oh." T'Kir had forgotten about Macen's earlier conversation with Kort, "Hannah and I will be there shortly."

"See you soon." Macen signed off, "Love you."

"Love ya too." T'Kir said happily, "Later."

The circuit closed and Macen rose, "I have to go see someone."

"Who?" Riker wondered.

"Someone else that needs help right now." Macen cryptically replied and left.

"So _that's _what's been on his mind." Danan remarked.

"He got that out of T'Kir's conversation?" Radil wondered, "I didn't get anything out of it."

"Admiral Drake is here." Daggit informed them, "Her sister has been hospitalised."

"Shannon?" Riker was very alert all of sudden.

Danan was suddenly very jealous of the intensity of emotion behind that question. Danan knew that she shouldn't feel that way. She and Riker had never formalised anything between them. She'd even boasted of their relationship's flexibility to Captain Kira and Commander Vaughn. So why was she suddenly irked by Riker's enthusiastic concern for a fellow crewman?

_Because I can be!_ She petulantly declared to herself.

Riker excused himself and strode down the hallway looking a reception aide. Danan's eyes followed him as he left. Profound silence loomed over the remaining trio.

"Now who's unsure of their feelings?" Radil smugly asked.

Danan made to reply but nothing came out. How could she counter Radil's charge? After all, it was true.

* * *

Macen found Drake engaged in a conversation on the waiting room's public com/comm. It was with an older gentlemen. As Macen approached, he recognised the man as Nigel Forger, Amanda and Shannon's father.

The elder Forger had spent the last twenty years as a Project Manager for the Antares Shipyards. His entire Starfleet record had been distinguished. It was a proud legacy for his daughters to aspire to. Today's news had to be troubling.

They said their farewells and Drake cleared the call log. Rising from the terminal she turned and spotted Macen. Her lips twisted into a wry smile.

"Don't you have anyone else to loom over?" she sarcastically quipped.

"They're fine at the moment." Macen grinned, "So I'm all yours."

"As T'Kir would say, 'Oh joy'." Drake groused.

"Was that your father on the screen?" Macen wondered.

"Yes." Drake's mood lightened somewhat, "By the way, Dad says 'Hi'."

"I was impressed with your father when I met him." Macen revealed.

"Most are." Drake said wistfully.

"You have nothing to prove, Amanda." Macen counselled her, "Your achievements in your specialty might even outweigh your father's."

Drake flashed him an irritated look and Macen sobered, "Besides I can now confirm that Shannon altered the ship's EMH program."

Drake groaned, "So T'Kir found it?"

"Yup." Macen nodded, "Have you arranged for her to receive treatment?"

"Yes." Drake wore a pained smile, "She'll be seen at the Andes Institute. I understand you're familiar with it."

Macen broke into an impish grin, "T'Kir's far more familiar with it than I am."

Drake rolled her eyes, "for God's sake Brin, you strolled in and broke her out of there. Alynna may not have been so generous as to cover it up if she'd known you were simply breaking your girlfriend out."

Macen adopted a wounded air, "You wrong me, Dear Lady. We weren't involved at the time."

"Hah!" Drake forcefully replied, "I know all about you two. I ran a background check on her before I allowed her into the SID. Didn't know that, did you?"

Macen ignored the challenge in Drake's eye, "That would've been prudent."

"I talked to Ro Laren. The Bajoran Militia was only too happy to guarantee her cooperation." Drake described, "Ro wasn't very happy to be discussing you two and grew even more defensive when I explored your relationship with T'Kir."

Drake waited for a reply. Not receiving one, she plunged on, "Ro told me how your spending so much time with T'Kir caused Lisea Danan to call it quits on your relationship. The last year you were all in the Maquis together you spent almost every waking moment with T'Kir. Most felt you were spending the rest of the time with her as well. I received this story and corroborated it with similar reports from the Maquis captured alongside you when you fled from the Dominion. Aric Tulley and the others were willing to exchange information in return for a shorter sentence."

"How obliging of them." Macen dryly quipped.

"You know what I discovered?" Drake waited for Macen to respond and he met her expectations with silence, "Tulley was convinced that I was inquiring about you because the pair of you had decided to go haring around the galaxy together. That was my greatest fear when I approved your team roster."

"And has it happened?" Macen asked.

"No." Drake admitted, "At least not as badly as Tulley predicted. You two are a force to be reckoned with but you're rarely on Starfleet's page of things."

"But we keep life interesting." Macen sagely pointed out.

"I had an interesting life before I met you. I still have an interesting life." Drake insisted.

"Ongoing crisis management can't substitute for a real life." Macen opined.

Drake shot him an annoyed glare but didn't argue the point. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew that there was a large kernel of truth lurking behind Macen's words. As her personal life crumbled she substituted the fulfilment of self with the pleasure of tasks well done. Her office was scrambling to keep up with her as she moved at a frenzied pace. All was well in her universe…everything but the very core of it.

Drake ran a hand through her hair and she sighed. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she squeezed her eyes shut. She then widened her eyes and patted her cheeks with her hands.

Wearing a weary grin she spoke, "I'll tell you what, you tell me what's going to happen to my sister when she gets out of the Andes Institute and I'll take your comments under advisement."

"Shannon's place is secure. I let T'Kir and Kort stay in the SID team despite their 'difficulties'. I can do no less for a member of my crew." Macen promised, "She'll be held accountable and if she lapses she'll be given one last chance. Failing that, she becomes an _ex-_employee."

Drake mulled it over and grudgingly agreed with the policy, "Sounds fair enough _as _long as you hold Kort and T'Kir to the same principle."

"Kort knows he's on his last leg. T'Kir on the other hand…" Macen grimaced.

"What is it?" Macen could sense Drake's rising level of concern even as she spoke.

Macen frowned and he grew pensive. Drake had seen him vulnerable once already today. This second showing was a rarity amongst rarities.

"T'Kir's growing resistant to her telepathic sensitivity meds." Macen finally articulated, "Her doses can't be raised any higher for fear of blood toxicity."

"Are her abilities controlled?" Drake was horrified. Macen's reports regarding T'Kir's psionic abilities had been graphically detailed. Drake loathed the thought of an unrestrained T'Kir being unleashed upon the galaxy.

"She can't casually kill with her mind yet," Macen wearily reported, "_if_ that's what you're concerned about."

Relief flooded through Drake. Her principal worry had just been addressed. Of course, there were other sundry concerns. First and foremost was the possibility of a rogue agent unleashing her nearly unlimited psi powers upon an unsuspecting quadrant.

"Damn." Drake groused, "This was so much simpler before she figured out that particular trick."

"More to the point, life was easier before she learned to _enjoy_ killing with her mind." Macen sorrowfully added.

"We can't do anything about it now except try to prevent her from fulfilling that guilty little pleasure." Drake maintained.

A weak smile crept up on Macen's features, "Shouldn't you be visiting your sister?"

Drake returned his anaemic smile with a bright, confident one, "Only after you return to your stricken crewmate."

"Technically Parva's not a member of the crew." Macen quibbled.

"She'll always feel like a teammate though, won't she?" Drake's smile sifted to the knowing kind.

Macen's smile blossomed, "Of course."

"Keep holding on to that," Drake pointed at his mouth and then to his head, "and to that and everything will be fine."

"Aye, aye Admiral." Macen retorted.

"_Now_ you're respectful?" Drake complained.

"Don't get used to it." Macen warned, "It won't last."

"Never fear, I hold out no hope." Drake softly laughed as she promised.

"All right then." Macen nodded in approval, "I go now to oversee my team's welfare."

Drake sketched a salute, "Good luck with that."

Drake watched Macen's retreating back for a moment. With her shoulders squared and her heart resolved she parched off to her sister's room.


	7. Chapter 7

Ryst was escorted to B'nner's private veranda. It was protected by a forcefield that could shrug off one or two bursts from a starship's phasers or disruptors. Even in the heart of his criminal empire Robhurt B'nner was a virtual prisoner of his own success.

Even though he was the ostensible leader of the Orion Syndicate, he was in constant danger of being eliminated by a rival or a younger subordinate. Although the Syndicate now frowned upon such methods of advancement B'nner's position had been severely weakened by the death of his son and heir apparent. Daveed's death left the succession nebulous and the various bosses and racketeers were trying to find their own solutions to the brewing crisis.

The Syndicate's power structure was rather monarchical. The "Godfather" was the king. The Dukes of the Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Quadrants were the next tier. Sector bosses and system racketeers ran things on a daily basis. Planetary controllers were the local management. With Daveed's death, the two remaining Dukes were fighting over his territories in the Alpha Quadrant. Added to that was the power struggle from below to assume the coveted mantle. Robhurt B'nner's search for a dependable heir only muddied these issues.

The bulk of B'nner's recent problems with retaining the Syndicate's "throne" revolved around his refusal to engage in reprisals against his son's killers. B'nner had ended the cycle of violence between the Syndicate and Outbound Ventures in order to avoid the escalation that would have transformed it into a "last man standing" conflict. This was a problem with a simple solution and Annika Ryst represented a large part of that selfsame solution.

"Please," B'nner gestured at the chairs gathered around an open fire pit, "take a seat."

Ryst looked around. It was ludicrous to her to build a fire pit in a large, open rotunda. She knew it stemmed from the Orions' love of spicy, skewered roasted meats. Their obsession with such snacks ranked second only to their love of purloined wealth. Selecting an overstuffed leather chair to B'nner's right, she strode over to it and primly settled herself down into it.

B'nner was obviously pleased with her choice of seats. He took a moment to scrutinise her. Her once flaxen locks were once again so dark they were almost black. Her sharp, dark eyes unflinchingly met B'nner's canny green ones.

B'nner smiled, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth, "You truly have no fear."

"I'm only afraid of those things that I can't control." Ryst allowed herself a small smile, "You don't qualify under that criteria."

"I may surprise you, m'dear." B'nner countered.

"You're undoubtedly still formidable when pitted against a Terran." Ryst surmised, "A Vulcan, however, would likely prove a challenge."

B'nner's weathered face twisted in rage but he said nothing. As the seconds ticked past, his anger drained away. Finally, he limply folded further into the recesses of his chair. Propping his feet up on an ottoman he refocused on Ryst.

"There was a day when I faced three Vulcans at once." B'nner wistfully recounted.

"There was a day when I didn't find it harder to move because of being in a gravity well three times stronger than my native world's." Ryst snapped her fingers, "Oh, yeah! That was yesterday."

"Is the gravity truly bothering you?" B'nner enquired.

"Not enough to prevent me from defending myself but I am slowed down." Ryst admitted.

"Then I think it's time to discuss the plan I have set in motion to lure Macen's SID team to their doom." B'nner portentously announced.

"You need to work on your delivery." Ryst softly laughed, "You need to be wearing a skullcap and a cape. Next you need to be twirling the end of a moustache and maniacally laughing 'bwah ha ha ha ha ha'!"

"Excuse me?" B'nner was perplexed and his temper was beginning to fray.

"Just remind me to introduce you to someone named Chaotica." Ryst insisted.

"Enough digression." B'nner grunted, "On to the plan: Several months ago I contacted the so-called leadership of Mityr. As you may know, the society of Mityr is wholly given over to the pursuit of criminal ends. Several entrepreneurs on that world frequently collaborate with the Syndicate."

B'nner hawked something up out of his throat and spit it out. Finished with this matter, he returned to his scheme, "I contacted the 'king' of this world, essentially the brute with enough firepower to enforce his will, and made a modest proposal. For several months now, Mityrian raiders have been pillaging Ekos and Zeon."

B'nner had a canny look to his eye, "You probably don't know that Ekos and Zeon are sister worlds. Their system is protected by Federation law. No Federation traffic is allowed in or out of that system. For seven months now the Mityrians have been prowling around that area and I have received word that Starfleet Intelligence is starting an investigation and that a SID team is being dispatched. Odds are that it's Macen's."

"What makes you think so?" Ryst wondered.

B'nner revealed his gnarled teeth, "He gets the most sensitive cases."

"And if it isn't him?" Ryst wanted to know.

B'nner shrugged, "One slain SID team, more or less, will only get us closer to our goal."

Ryst grinned from ear to ear, "I like it. What's my job?"

"I want you to travel to Mityr and assume control of the local situation. The raiders have standing orders to lead Macen's ship to the planet. Presumably, once there, he will travel to the surface and begin a thorough inquiry." B'nner was all smiles, "An inquiry that will lead to his demise."

"That's the perfect spot for a villainous 'Bwah ha ha ha ha ha!'" Ryst informed him.

B'nner shot her a glare and Ryst held up her hands, "Sorry. Just trying to help."

"Help by focusing on the matter at hand." B'nner snapped.

"What do I use as leverage to get the local ruler to accommodate me?" Ryst enquired.

B'nner reached into the folds of the thick quilted jacket he wore even on this tropical planet. He retrieved a padd and motioned for Ryst to retrieve it. Ryst rose from her seat, took the proffered device, and sat back down. She immediately began to review its contents.

After just eying a few of the items listed she whistled, "Gods, Boss, you're willing to give up a lot."

"Only if I have to." B'nner conceded, "I'm trusting that you will make our actual trade arrangements far more tolerable."

"I'll have them begging to have their _mishveks _out of the vise." Ryst promised, "So when do I leave?"

"I was thinking in the morning, after you've rested." B'nner suggested.

"Just the same to you," Ryst offered the old man an apologetic smile, "the sooner I'm out of this gravity, the sooner I'll be able to rest."

"Very well." B'nner nodded, "You'll find Mityr's coordinates loaded into your navcomp and your weapons package has been upgraded into something useful."

"Good." Ryst snorted, "That tin can's phasers were worthless."

"She'll match any Starfleet vessel her size now." B'nner wore a nasty grin.

Ryst rose and made for the door. B'nner called out to her before she reached it. Puzzled, she turned around.

"I'm counting on you Annika Ryst." B'nner intoned, "We all are."

Ryst hesitated but she refrained from asking the obvious question. Squaring her shoulders, she exited the veranda and strolled off to her runabout. B'nner remained where he was thinking brooding thoughts.

_She will get the job done and the eroding sandstone beneath my feet will be shored up. _B'nner desperately wished, _If that woman fails so do I and perhaps the Orion Syndicate with me._

* * *

T'Kir and Grace had arrived at Olympus Mons in the early hours of the morning. Joining the vigil, they began overloading on caffeinated beverages as well. When dawn arrived, the entire group was grateful to see Kort and Galloway emerge from the surgical unit. Both doctors wore satisfied smiles.

Daggit was immediately on his feet, "How is she?"

"Hayley?" Kort deferred to his colleague.

Galloway's smile grew even wider, "The heart functions perfectly. Her circulation has been restored to her physiology's norms. The surrounding tissue and bone regenerated perfectly. All in all, I'd say this has been a brilliant success."

"Where is she?" Daggit nearly babbled, "Can I see her?"

Kort clasped his arm, "Of course. She is in a recovery area. Soon she will be moved to her room. Once she is there, you may all start visiting her."

"Room?" Daggit repeated with suspicion, "Why does Parva need a room?"

Galloway quickly moved to his side, "It's standard procedure with a transplant. You have to give the new heart 24 hours to develop any problems or for the body to develop any rejection issues. These situations are rare but they require immediate attention if they occur."

Daggit scrutinised Galloway for several seconds before he slowly smiled, "Have you ever thought about working for us? I'm certain that the Captain would hire you on."

Galloway laughed, "And give up on trying to sleuth out what you people do? Never!"

Her merriment was infectious and the entire SID team smiled. Kort took this moment to urge Daggit into following him. Daggit eagerly complied. Galloway went to the replicator, ordered the largest mug of _raktajino _it offered and collapsed into a nearby chair.

Riker and Danan were off to visit Shannon Forger. Riker had located her room during the early morning hours but she had been sleeping. Danan had been quite pleased, and more than a little relieved, to be asked to come with him to Forger's room while the occupant was awake.

Grace and Radil had stepped outside and were strolling amidst the hospital's many walking paths. That left Macen and T'Kir alone with Galloway. They each took a seat, one to either side of the exhausted doctor.

"Is he gone?" Galloway asked with her eyes closed, clutching the coffee mug.

"Yup." T'Kir happily replied, "_Both_ Kort and Rab have gone away."

"Kort's not the problem." Galloway sighed, "He knows the rules."

"And what rules would these be?" Macen enquired.

"Specifically, it's the rule about never breaking down or falling apart in front of your patients or their loved ones." Galloway weakly grinned, "I do believe starship captains have a similar ethos."

It was Macen's turn to grin, "I do believe you're right."

"Before you two get all chummy," T'Kir warned, "remember to include me or else I'll just have to read her mind and get the pretences over with."

Galloway graced T'Kir with a sweet smile, "You don't frighten me. Once you open up your mind to me you'll take in everyone else within your sensitivity radius as well. That's a black abyss you don't want to get pulled into."

T'Kir merely glared at Galloway as Macen softly laughed, "I think you have her pegged."

Galloway shook her head, "No. Kort has her pegged. I just notice details."

"What kinda 'details'?" T'Kir growled.

Galloway chuckled despite her fatigue, "When we first met, and every encounter since then, you've slipped in and out of my mind without effort or hesitation. This meeting, some two months after our last, you are being highly reserved with your telepathic abilities. This, combined with Kort's statements that you've been bolstering your psionic shields, leads me to believe that you're losing control of your abilities and that it is now easier to block them out rather than try to rein them in. Am I right?"

T'Kir looked on the verge of apoplexy but she restrained herself and jarringly nodded her head twice. Galloway sighed and leaned back to rest her head against the wall with her eyes closed.

"I thought as much." She sadly confessed.

"Wait a minute!" T'Kir finally erupted as she leapt out of her seat, "How the hell do you know so much about me?"

Galloway offered a wan smile, "I'm on Barrinor to consult with Kort regarding your increased tolerance to your telepathic inhibitor medication."

T'Kir threw her arms in the air, "Why doesn't he just tell the whole _frinxing _galaxy?"

Galloway opened her eyes and met T'Kir's challenging stare, "Kort has only told _one _medical colleague about your problem out of regard for your privacy. That medical professional was me."

T'Kir's eyes narrowed, "Why d'you rate?"

"If you haven't noticed, Kort is an excellent trauma specialist. Medical research, particularly of such a complex problem as neurotransmitters running amuck, is slightly beyond his reach. That's where I come in." Galloway explained with a hint of mischief twinkling in her eyes.

"How d'you 'come in'?" T'Kir defensively asked, "And how often?"

"Is this a question regarding the nature of Kort and my relationship?" Galloway covered her mouth in mock horror.

"Maybe." T'Kir lost some of her vehemence.

"Just to stifle concerns that Kort and I are swapping secrets in between the sheets: Kort and I enjoy a very platonic relationship. It could progress further with time and effort but I don't see that happening in the near future." Galloway leaned back and closed her eyes again, "Lord, I hate interrogations. They leave you feeling drained and I'm tired enough already."

"Was the surgery that difficult?" Macen gently probed.

Galloway's eyes opened and she met Macen's gaze. Wearing a bittersweet smile, she explained, "If we'd started the procedure even ten minutes later Parva would be dead. Her heart arrested as we were rerouting her blood flow into the cardiac bypass regulator. As an experiment we tried to revive it. It never responded. We removed it and placed the implant into the cavity."

"And there were problems." Macen guessed before Galloway could close her eyes.

Galloway leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. She vigorously rubbed her face. Ceasing her ministrations she rubbed the back of her neck while she rotated her head. She started when she felt T'Kir's hand brush hers away.

"You're doin' it all wrong." T'Kir wore an apologetic smile, "Trust me. Vulcans know necks."

T'Kir began her ministrations and Galloway groaned, "Ohhhh God. I'll be asleep for sure if you keep this up."

"Just answer the man's question and things will stay as they are." T'Kir offered.

"Anything. Just don't stop." Galloway begged.

"Hayley," Macen used his "command voice", "what kind of difficulties did you and Kort run into during Parva's transplant procedure?"

"The heart is the wrong shape and size." Galloway closed her eyes and frowned, "Orion hearts are almost teardrop shaped. It's never been a problem before because Orions would rather die than accept synthetic or biosynthetic replacements. Also, Orion physiology is still relatively unknown. We rarely convict an Orion and even when we do everyone from the medical profession is forbidden from mapping out their physiology."

"Let me guess," Macen wore a wry expression, "it would violate their rights since it would be an act of torture."

Galloway blinked in surprise, "How did you know?"

"I've encountered a similar situation in regards to an autopsy." Macen explained.

"Starfleet wouldn't let us examine a dead body." T'Kir chuckled, "We convinced them otherwise."

"And just how did you go about changing their minds?" Galloway bemusedly asked.

"We appealed to their sense of logic." T'Kir defiantly insisted.

"Oh really?" a mirthfully delighted Galloway retorted, "Are you sure you just didn't tweak their minds a little?"

"You really think I'd do that?" an affronted T'Kir asked.

"In a heartbeat." Galloway wholeheartedly answered.

"Couldn't." T'Kir muttered, "I can't selectively control my abilities any more."

"It must be rough to suddenly have a conscience thrust upon you." Galloway playfully remarked.

"Hey!" T'Kir protested.

Galloway let loose of a delighted laugh, "That serves you right for what you did to me on our first meeting."

A slight emerald blush coloured T'Kir's cheeks, "Sorry `bout that."

Galloway dismissed the notion, "No, you're not so don't lie about it."

T'Kir grinned, "You're right. I'm not."

"This was just so you'd know I can take care of myself." Galloway informed her.

"We never doubted it." Macen assured her, "You're friends with Kort. That alone implies that you're formidable."

"Thanks." Galloway bowed her head and genuflected with her hands.

"How come he gets respect and adoration and I get abuse?" T'Kir complained.

"Because he's worthy and you're not." Galloway replied primly.

"Why not?" T'Kir demanded.

"Because you're evil and he isn't." Galloway teased.

"Hey!" T'Kir loudly protested.

Macen and Galloway laughed. T'Kir looked exasperated. A nurse approached them.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to be quieter." She apologetically informed them, "They can hear you on the ward."

"We'll behave." Macen promised and then he asked, "Do you happen to know what time it is?"

"It is 06:30 local time." The nurse politely answered and then bustled off to other things.

Macen groaned as he rose.

"What is it?" Galloway grew concerned.

"He has to call Joachim and tell him to come back." T'Kir replied and Macen pointed at her and nodded.

"You have another mission?" Galloway enquired.

"Yup." T'Kir confirmed it for her.

Galloway frowned, "How soon?"

"We depart in about a week." T'Kir explained.

Galloway sucked on her lower lip for a second and then made a decision, "I'll contact Sinherra University and see if I can extend my stay."

"Kort can handle the medical stuff." T'Kir replied, "Why d'you you need to stay?"

"I'm staying to help you." Galloway asserted, "That is why I came to Barrinor after all."

"Really?" T'Kir brightened and sat up straighter.

"I have an idea of where to go from here but I need more time to develop the treatment." Galloway revealed.

"You do?" T'Kir asked, desperate hope clinging to every word.

"Yes, I do." Galloway confidently confided, "I've been working with some older scans Kort made of your neural activity. I'd like to update those. Are you available tomorrow?"

T'Kir's eyes with bright with fervour, "Of course! What time?"

"I just need to schedule a time to use the hospital's diagnostic equipment." Galloway explained.

"Use the Sickbay aboard the _Obsidian_." Macen suggested, "Kort and Tessa can assist you."

"Tessa being the EMH?" Galloway smiled.

"You know about her?" T'Kir wondered.

"Kort thinks the world of her." Galloway replied.

A mischievous grin spread across T'Kir's features, "Oh really?"

Galloway looked distressed, "What have I said?"

"Kort is constantly complaining that Tessa is planning on usurping his place as CMO." Macen explained with an amused smile.

Galloway shook her head, "Sounds like Kort, all sturm, drang, and bluster."

T'Kir looked up at Macen with an expectant look on her face, "I like her. Can we keep her?"

"Honey, I don't think she wants to be kept." Macen tried to gently disappoint her.

"Oh foo." T'Kir's lower lip stuck out.

Macen's smile was an affectionate one, "This too shall pass."

"I'd better be consoled later on." T'Kir pouted.

"I promise." Macen vowed.

"Well, just don't stand there." T'Kir said impatiently, "Go ruin Joachim's day."

Macen held his arm before him at waist height and bowed, "Your wish, as ever, is my command Milady."

As Macen departed, Galloway turned to T'Kir, "Why can't I find one like him?"

"How hard are you trying?" T'Kir asked.

"Not very hard." Galloway glumly admitted, "I only know doctors."

T'Kir perked up, "Well now you have me on your side so you're sure to succeed."

Galloway wore a naughty grin, "I don't see why we can't help each other out."

"That's the spirit." T'Kir leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, "What are you looking for in a man? Be completely and bluntly honest."

Galloway blushed and then began to describe her ideal mate.


	8. Chapter 8

The chirping of the comm badge instantly awoke both Dracas and Stan Guthrie. Both of their eyes were sharp and alert as they sought out the distressed device.

"It's mine." Dracas grumbled and slid out of bed. He plucked the offending badge off of his discarded shirt and left the room. Crossing the flat, he arrived in the kitchen. Once there, he tapped the badge with his thumb.

"Dracas here." He said softly but firmly.

"I hate to disturb you Chief but we have a mission." Macen's voice was apologetic.

"When do I need to leave?" Dracas embodied pure professionalism itself.

"Immediately." Macen regretted to reply, "We've been assigned a new ship for the length of the mission. I need you to inspect it and see what makes her tick."

"I understand." Dracas acknowledged, "I shall depart within six hours."

"Thanks Chief." Macen said gratefully, "Macen out."

Dracas heard the padding of bare feet behind him and he turned. Guthrie stood there, wrapped in a robe.

"I like the view," Guthrie alluded to Dracas' naked form, "but the expression bodes ill."

"I have to leave." Dracas said without inflection, "We have a mission."

Guthrie rubbed the back of his head and wore a rueful expression, "I was afraid of that. When do you leave?"

"Now." Dracas sighed and started to move.

"Listen," Guthrie stopped Dracas in his tracks, "I don't normally pick strange men up and go straight to bed with them."

"Really?" Dracas seemed surprised, "That is a norm on Magna Roma."

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm hoping this isn't a one night stand." Guthrie confessed, "I'd like to see you again."

"As I would like to continue where we left off." Dracas admitted, "You are a remarkable man Stan Guthrie, I would like to know you better."

"Contact Starfleet Command any time." Guthrie urged, "They'll know how to reach me."

"I will." Dracas promised, "But now I must get dressed and retrieve my belongings before I depart in the corporate runabout I arrived in."

They returned to the bedroom and Dracas dressed. Guthrie silently escorted him to the front door. There, he broke his silence.

"You've stirred something inside of me, Joachim, and I'd like to find out what it is." Guthrie revealed.

Dracas nodded, "Perhaps we'll get that opportunity. Farewell."

"Until later." Guthrie replied and watched Dracas trudge off through the morning frost. _If only we get that lucky, _he reluctantly said to himself.

* * *

Parva woke and Daggit experienced rapturous joy. He openly wept tears of joy as he took her hand and fervently kissed it. Parva tousled his hair and laughed.

"It's all right, Rab. I'm okay." Parva giggled.

Daggit stopped kissing her hand and gazed directly into her eyes. Her eyes danced mischievously.

"Who said you could stop?" she demanded imperiously.

Daggit looked back towards Kort, "She's all right. If she has enough energy to imitate T'Kir she's healthy enough to live."

Kort chuckled, "Why don't you both pretend that I'm the doctor and let me examine the patient."

Parva and Daggit looked chastised but thoroughly unrepentant. Kort sighed and produced several specialised tricorders out of his smock's pockets. Utilising them, he soon broke into a satisfied smile.

"You are alive." Kort playfully began, "Your body has not rejected the heart. The heart seems to be working at expected capacity. All of the venal and arterial connections to the heart are stable. In short, you can expect to stay alive."

Parva beamed and Daggit laid his head across her lap. Kort touched Daggit's shoulder.

"We're bringing in a cot so you can rest in the same room." He announced.

"When can I see my friends?" Parva wanted to know.

"I'll let them in so they can see you for a moment." Kort advised, "They have been here all night as well so it is only fair to let them rest as well."

"I'll be good." Parva promised.

"I will let them visit then." Kort announced.

Kort rounded up the various SID team members and brought them to Parva's room. He found T'Kir and Galloway deep in whispered conversation. A conversation which caused Galloway to blush. T'Kir reprimanded Kort for the interruption but forgave him when she discovered why he'd disrupted the clandestine talk.

Macen was intercepted while he was on his way to rejoin T'Kir. Radil and Grace were rounded up and brought into tow. Riker and Danan were paged and they arrived shortly. They brought word that Forger was awake and stable but despondent just the same.

Drake was with her sister and they were sharing laughter and tears. Danan opined that this encounter would go further towards the healing process than any other intervention. She did lock eyes with Macen and sternly informed him that a visit from him was called for. Macen gave his word that he would drop by Forger's room after he'd seen Parva. That satisfied Danan.

Parva almost leapt out of the bed when she saw her friends. She held out her arms and T'Kir rushed into them. Kort barked a warning.

They unclasped and Parva frowned, "He's no fun."

"True." T'Kir's eyes rolled to an angle above her shoulder, "Sadly, he's also right. You have to take it easy for a day or two, kiddo. After that, you'll be better than ever. Promise."

"I already feel tons better." Parva ebulliently announced.

T'Kir laughed, "I'm sure you do, Sweetie. Let's try for megatons next."

"Okay!" Parva bubbled.

"Time to go." Kort announced.

Everyone waved goodbye and said their best wishes as they filed out of the room. After they'd gone, Parva looked to Daggit.

"I hope I haven't worried anyone." Parva said wistfully.

Daggit laughed. It was a laugh rich with irony and delight, "Baby, you have no idea how close you came to dying."

"But everyone else knows." She realised.

"Hence the worry." Daggit squeezed her hand, "You almost waited too long. I almost lost you."

"I'm sorry Rab but I had to think it over." Parva tried to explain, "I mean _really_ think it over."

"But you could've died." Daggit reminded her.

"It would have been my choice, a completely valid choice, to live out my life with the body I have been provided with." Parva struggled to bring the concepts to life, "Look at it this way: what if someone approached you tomorrow and said they could reverse all of the augmentations and psychological conditioning that's been done to you and you find out they can really do it? What's your choice?"

At first Daggit was aghast. Slowly, a rueful expression dominated his features. He shook his head.

"You still know how to go for the throat, m'dear." Daggit admitted with just a tinge of regret.

"I had to pick something that would place you in the same position." Parva did not relent.

Daggit thought about for a moment and then wryly admitted, "I wouldn't do it. That's a far cry from where I was six years ago. Maybe even two. I don't know. My planet's cultural baggage would demand that I do it. My own first inclination is to do it."

"Then why wouldn't you?" Parva quietly asked.

"Because I can make a greater contribution to the greater good as I am." Daggit sounded defeated, "My personal views don't carry any weight."

"Exactly." Parva almost whispered.

Daggit was very sober as he studied his wife, seeing in a new light for the first time, "You wanted to die?"

"No!" Parva replied strongly, "If I'd wanted that we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Then what was the exact source of contention?" Daggit calmly inquired.

"I wanted to be _whole_." Parva fervently expressed, "I wanted my body to function as nature intended whether that be before or after the shooting."

"What changed your mind?" Daggit wondered.

"Hannah and T'Kir took the _Corsair_ out. Joachim had modified the impulse drive and they were testing it. The impulse manifold melted down while they were using the runabout." Parva described the events, "They didn't know what caused the malfunction. Dracas certainly hadn't anticipated the problem but _I _solved it. Poor brain damaged, dumb bunny me solved it. That's when I knew I still had something to offer the team. It may not be much but it's something."

Her gaze softened, "Then there's you. You'd survive if I was gone but you'd go back to being 'Mr. Super Soldier' all over again. I couldn't have that on my conscience."

"I won't apologise for being a motivating factor in this." Daggit affectionately smiled.

"Good." Parva brightened. She yawned and stretched her arms, "I hate to say it but I'm really tired. Can we talk more later?"

Daggit patted her hand, "You do whatever is best for you. I'll be right here."

"I know." Parva contentedly exhaled before drifting off.

Daggit paged the nurse and he had two orderlies bring in a cot. With that accomplished, Daggit lay down and fell into a contented slumber as well. A nurse dropped by and a warm smile crept across her face as she saw the couple sleeping. Taking her scans as quietly as possible, she left them there dreaming as she continued her rounds.

* * *

The next day came. Parva's morning had been filled by rest and visitors. Now it was T'Kir's turn to be examined. Grace ferried T'Kir and Galloway to the _Obsidian_ in the _Corsair_. Kort remained behind to oversee Parva's treatment. Macen remained behind to escort Drake and Forger to the Admiral's shuttle.

Grace had expertly flown the runabout on what she'd deemed a "milk run". Her primary motive for coming along being concern over T'Kir's health rather than for the opportunity to helm the diminutive starship. Galloway was delighted by the company. Even after the flight her intrigue regarding the adapted physiology of the Kelvans remained palpable.

"But how do your people achieve their reputed physical augmentations?" Galloway badgered Grace.

Grace stopped in the middle of the corridor and faced down Galloway, "Look Hayley, I'll let you run whatever scans of me that you want, when you've finished with T'Kir, but just don't ask me one more bloody question."

The delivery was good natures enough that Galloway wasn't offended. Embarrassed, yes, but not insulted. She contented herself with joining in on Grace and T'Kir's playful banter. Galloway was quite proud of being so readily accepted.

* * *

"So how did you talk Kira out of one of her runabouts?" Macen grinned upon seeing the _Rio Grande_ sitting on Outbound Ventures' tarmac, "Not just any old runabout but _her _runabout?"

"What do you mean?" Drake looked surprised.

"Ro told me about it. That's the only runabout left that was originally assigned to _DS9_. Kira's quite proprietary about it."

"Well, she never uttered a word." Drake countered.

"Can we just go if we're going?" Forger sullenly enquired.

Shannon Forger was through the worst of the withdrawals but now the long, cold days without any pharmaceutical assistance had arrived and they would prove to be the real trial. Yesterday she'd received Macen's news that her position with Outbound Ventures was secure _as _long as she ceased taking stimulants or any other non-prescribed drug. Her mood had lifted somewhat but she hadn't uttered a word in her captain's presence until now. Macen let it go since he could sense her deep seated shame.

Drake couldn't simply sit by, "Shannon, this man is willing to let you remain as a part of his crew in spite of everything. You might as well be civil."

Forger blankly stared at Drake and Macen pulled Drake closer to him, "It's all right, Amanda. She's in a lot of turmoil right now. She needs time to adjust and help coping. You _both_ do."

Drake blinked out of shock but she quickly recovered, "Very well, I'll give you that one. I'll check in with Alynna on the way back and see how the inquiry is coming."

"Confide in her, Amanda." Macen suggested, "Alynna is understanding and compassionate. She also has wisdom beyond her years."

"It was bad enough to break down in front of you but now you want me to confess my weaknesses in front of my boss?" Drake protested.

"Alynna is your mentor." Macen countered, "If she truly respects you she won't judge. She'll help guide you."

"So you say now." Drake grumped.

"Amanda." Macen scolded her.

Drake held her hands up in surrender, "All right. I'll confide in her."

"Good girl." Macen patted her on the head.

Drake swatted his hand aside, "Watch it buster. You'd better not get all chauvinistic on me."

Macen grinned, "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Liar." Drake snorted. She turned and took Forger's hand, "Come on, Honey. We're leaving."

"`Bout time." Forger muttered. Drake led her to the _Rio Grande's _hatch. Drake released the lock and the hatch opened. She climbed aboard as Forger stayed on the ground. Turning to face Macen, she offered a tentative wave and then hurried aboard the runabout.

Macen had returned the wave with a bright smile. The hatch sealed and the ship's impulse engines cycled. Forger ran her pre-flight checklist and then sounded an alarm outside. The runabout's thrusters cycled and she lifted from the ground. She flew off in an upward arc into the morning sky.

Macen watched the _Rio Grande_ disappear and then he turned and strode over to a nearby shuttle. Boarding the shuttle, he took a seat at the controls. It was a classic civilian variant of Starfleet's Type 6 shuttle. Running his own checklist, he sounded the departure alarm and lifted off. Setting course for _Barrinor Station_, where the _Obsidian_ was docked, he looked forward to reuniting with his wife and hoped that Galloway had made progress.

* * *

Kiv Rever awoke to the almost imperceptible sounds of Dracas moving around in the neighbouring room. A feeling of dread seized his guts and he rose to investigate. He found Dracas studiously packing his things. A board creaked under Rever's foot as he started to enter the room.

Dracas' reaction was instantaneous. He spun on one heel and whirled to face the source of the sound. Simultaneously, his right hand reached into his jacket and withdrew a Bajoran Militia issue phaser. Dracas automatically aimed at the centre of Rever's mass. It was only after he was positioned to deal with a potential threat that he paused to assess that same threat.

Seeing that the source of is "impending doom" was one terrified Rever, Dracas flexed his wrist, aiming the phaser at the ceiling. He bent his arm and tucked the phaser into his jacket. Sliding it into the shoulder holster he wore, he secured the weapon and reassessed Rever.

Rever continued to stand there staring at him in mute horror. Dracas shooed him on, "Be a good man and fetch us some tea. I think we could both use some."

It took a moment for this request to sink in. In the interim, Dracas resumed packing. When Rever's reaction came, it was explosive.

"Make tea? As though nothing had happened?" Rever thundered.

Dracas glanced back over his shoulder, "Nothing did happen. Now scoot along."

"Joachim," Rever almost pleaded, "you almost killed me."

Dracas sighed and turned around, "I could have easily have killed you. There was no reason for it so I didn't."

"And if you'd had a reason?" Rever wondered.

Dracas shrugged, "We wouldn't be having this conversation and I'd have my tea by now."

"Hang the tea!" Rever blurted, "You'd have killed me! What kind of person are you?"

Rever saw the first glimmer of irritation in Dracas' eye and it was a frightening think to witness, "Despite appearances to the contrary, I am not Hal Dracas. I am a Legionnaire in the Roman Star Legions. I was born and bred to be a soldier in the service of my Emperor Alaric. I am currently on detached duty and serving with the Special Investigations team of Outbound Ventures. I am sworn to uphold Captain Macen's word as my Emperor's own."

Dracas' visage grew dark and his voice became terrible, "I respect Captain Macen and even admire him but if my Emperor were to revoke his mandate and order Macen's death I would comply without a qualm."

"You're monster." Rever gasped in a hoarse whisper, "And to think I set you up with poor Stan."

A bitter smile crept across Dracas' face, "Stan Guthrie understands me in ways that you will never comprehend. I thank you for the kindness you showed. I will be leaving now. I thank you for your many courtesies. If you reconsider matter and wish to continue our relationship, call me. If I do not hear from you, I will understand."

Dracas zipped his duffel closed and exited the bedroom. Rever realised that he should say something. As he exited the bedroom he heard the front door close. Rever ran to the door and out into the hall. The corridor was empty. He checked the lifts, none were descending. The stairwells were empty. Totally at a loss, Rever returned to his flat.

He thought about coming after Dracas but he had no idea what he'd say. Truth be told, he had no idea why he was chasing Joachim in the first place. Was it merely because he was a ghost of Hal Dracas? Was there anything deeper to the bond between them? Rever buried his head in his hands. Until he could answer those questions it was better for him to stay out of Dracas' life.

* * *

Dracas sealed the runabout's hatch. Unbeknownst to Dracas, Annika Ryst had recently purchased an identical model. The Syndicate's modifications and augmentations meant hers could now face down a _Danube_-class runabout. That left the Outbound Ventures' Corporate Fleet outgunned and underpowered in comparison. These would become concerns for another day.

He sat in silence for a moment. The ship's computer awaited instructions but none were forthcoming. Dracas pondered what had just occurred in Soho. He'd assumed that Rever would attempt to follow him and he had been correct. The civilian engineer had never considered the possibility of Dracas _climbing _the stairs.

In truth, Dracas almost pitied the man. He'd clearly been completely unnerved by the full reality of Dracas' character and hardened resolve. From what he'd learned of these Federation types, it would be a common reaction to those that he revealed himself to. It wasn't their fault that they were weak. It was systemic to their way of life.

That was why Stan Guthrie had surprised and delighted him. Guthrie was a battle tested warrior with years of experience under his belt. Tested in the brief Cardassian and Klingon-Federation wars and then the Dominion War, Guthrie had proven his mettle time and again. Dracas respected him and that was why he had bedded him. It was a compliment.

To Dracas' delight, and horror, Guthrie wished to carry on their union. Dracas had never been in any relationship that lasted more than a week. Quite frankly, he didn't know _how _he should feel.

_Should I feel anything?_ Dracas plaintively wondered.

Dracas literally shook himself. Settling into his seat, he spoke, "Computer begin pre-flight diagnostics of the ship's systems."

"Beginning diagnostics." The feminine voice of the computer acknowledged.

Dracas activated the comm, "Earth Traffic Control, this is the Outbound Ventures runabout _Seeker_. I am requesting a departure clearance and an outbound traffic slot."

"Ultimate destination?" the traffic controller asked.

"Barrinor." Dracas answered.

"We should be able to squeeze you in within the hour." The controller informed him, "Please stand by."

* * *

In truth it took thirty-seven minutes. With that accomplished, Dracas surrendered control and allowed ETC to guide his ship to the system warp boundary. Upon arrival, Dracas received his supralight speed clearance and control of his craft was returned. Dracas thanked them and set out on the course devised for him by ETC at warp 4.

For only the second time in his life, Dracas was in a quandary. He'd been in one when he'd first arrived aboard the _Obsidian_ and he was defiantly in one now. He found he mourned the loss of Kiv Rever in his life. To make matters worse, he longed for a greater involvement with Stan Guthrie, if only as a friend. To be blunt he wanted Rever and Guthrie to remain in his intimate circle but he had no idea how to accomplish that.

Dracas sighed and chastised himself over his self perceived frailty. Thinking on it he came to realise the person best able to be in a position to advise him was Rab Daggit. Daggit was the soldier's soldier yet he'd managed to carve out a personal life for himself. Dracas craved the opportunity to receive a few scraps of wisdom from him.

With a grunt Dracas shut off that train of thought. The entire subject was set aside by the man's disciplined decision. The matter would be broached again when he was in Daggit's presence and not before. Finding a false sense of resolution Dracas busied himself in whatever tasks he could find to accomplish. It would be a long five day journey.


	9. Chapter 9

"What d'you mean you've developed a 'cure'?" T'Kir demanded. Macen and Grace struggled to keep her from taking hold of Galloway, "How can you 'cure' me? I don't have a disease!"

Galloway, who'd taken a cautionary step towards the exit, explained herself, "In a sense you do. Your telepathy is facilitated by the action of several specialised neurotransmitters activating and stimulating certain portions of your brain."

T'Kir settled down and Galloway stopped bracing for an emergency dash out of the room, "Comparing your cerebral scans against those of a 'normal' Vulcan, we were able to isolate a particular neurotransmitter that is proving to be the problem. Your brain overproduces the neurochemical Seracymoculic. Up until now, Seracymoculic was thought to be a minor ESP enabler. This evidence proves otherwise."

Galloway continued after a breath, "The herbal remedy that the Vulcan texts advocate neutralises smaller doses of Seracymoculic. It does not, however, address the real problem. The overproduction of the transmitter _must _be addressed."

"How?" T'Kir's nerves were raw.

"I can perform surgery on the affected member and through genetic therapy I can reverse the mutation that has destabilised the brain." Galloway revealed.

"How will that affect me?" T'Kir growled.

"Physically, there will be no changes." Galloway qualified before pressing on, "Telepathically, you'd be neutered."

"What d'ya mean 'neutered'?" T'Kir shouted with a touch of hysteria lacing her voice.

From behind her, Macen wrapped his arms around her. T'Kir pulled his embrace even tighter. In a calmer manner, she repeated her question.

"You'd still have telepathic abilities. That much is certain." Galloway assured her, "To what extent remains to be seen. You could be reduced to touch telepathy that is the Vulcan norm or you could retain a degree of your current level of ability. Our simulations widely vary."

Galloway grew deathly serious, "What is known is that the Vulcan records show that every Vulcan that has had a similar history has succumbed to madness and had to be executed for the public good."

"They couldn't just be locked away?" T'Kir wanted to know.

Galloway shook her head, "They penetrated into people's minds and killed hundreds. Luckily, this condition only arises once in every five hundred years or so."

T'Kir scowled, "Lucky me."

"Actually," Galloway persisted, "you're very lucky. We can treat your condition now. That wasn't possible before. All you have to do is decide whether or not you _want_ to be treated."

T'Kir's mouth abruptly clamped shut. She blinked in surprise several times. Finally, she found her voice.

"Y'mean I have a choice?" she asked.

"T'Kir," Galloway's voice was firm but compassionate, "we all have a choice. Parva had a choice of whether or not to receive treatment. In her case it would have cost her her life to refuse. I can't estimate or predict what will happen to you no matter what decision you make here. Treatment is always an available option. It just depends upon you."

"Can I think about it for a minute?" T'Kir asked.

"Take your time." Galloway sympathetically smiled.

T'Kir took hold of Macen's hand, "C'mon. I need your help."

"I hear and obey." Macen joked while T'Kir dragged him out of Sickbay.

Out in the corridor, Macen asked, "Where to now?"

"Team Room." T'Kir said and briskly led the way.

* * *

Ryst leaned back in the runabout's cockpit. The computer was flying the ship. That suited Ryst. Her skills as a pilot were amateurish at best.

She read and reread the report the Syndicate's agents had compiled on Mityr's "king". Bertram Sindis possessed the ruthless genius necessary to bring order to his world. Mityr had been an anarchist's dream where the strong preyed on the weak and everyone was eventually broken.

Sindis changed all of that. No one knew quite how he had done it but the little Iridian had united the battling factions and all under his banner. Mityr's criminal enterprises were now far more profitable and successful than ever before. The pirates and narcotic runners had been reorganised along military lines and their newfound discipline showed.

That aspect of events made perfect sense to the analysts tasked with studying the planet. Iridians were a militant people. Hired as police and military units by aliens, the Iridian Enforcers had pacified large chunks of the frontier beyond the Federation. Only now was Starfleet realising how widespread the Enforcers' influence truly was.

From what had been gathered so far, the Iridians' territory informally stretched across corewards space in a chunk at least as large as the Romulan Star Empire. Informality was the word of the day since most of the inhabitants of those territories merely "hired" the Enforcers to defend their space. The question of who truly had the power had never been broached.

From what little was known about Sindis, it appeared that he had been a sector commander with the Enforcers. Having disobeyed orders, he was removed from his post. Rather than execute him, the apparent normal punishment for such a crime, he was exiled. His loss of face designed to be so severe as to induce a living death.

Sindis had disappointed them. He clung to life. Hopping from one planet to the next across the Federation's frontier, he soon became intimately familiar with the criminal aspects of the otherwise utopian civilisation.

Tracing the roots of the criminal activity, he learned of the Orion Syndicate and Mityr. Statements made by second and third parties indicated that Sindis had rejected approaching the Syndicate because of its monolithic hierarchy. Mityr became his first best choice for excelling. Upon arrival, he quickly set out to make that fragmented world his very own.

Physically, according to reports, Sindis was not that impressive. He was lean and very fast but that was all that could be said about his physicality. He was shorter than the average humanoid. His grey skin was almost blue. His thick head of hair was bone white and his cobalt blue eyes nearly glowed.

All of that, all precious little that there was, was what the Syndicate's analysts pitifully labelled a "biography". Ryst took the compilers' names down. She promised herself that she would have a very long and painful chat with them when this affair was over. Assuming, of course, that she survived her next encounter with the SID.

Ryst bolted up upright in her chair. _Where did _that _come from?_ She asked herself. It was true Macen had beaten her three times now but she'd survived both encounters owing to his idiotic merciful tendencies. _Those same tendencies are going to get him killed this time around._ She swore to herself and settled back into her seat.

_I'm in my prime._ Ryst consoled herself, _Defeat and prison have only hardened my resolve. My edge is still there._

The mere fact that she had to reassure herself gnawed at Ryst. It eroded some of her confidence and she cursed every deity that she could recall from childhood. She had to succeed. She _had_ to! Ryst doubted that she could continue on as a mercenary if she failed this time around.

Ryst was suddenly stunned. She hadn't had the pre-mission jitters since she was augmented. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. All she knew was that the timing was awful.

* * *

"I don't know what to do." T'Kir confessed. She and Macen had ordered drinks in the Team Room and were now leaning into the couch in their quarters. Macen had his arms wrapped around her waist and her head rested in the nook of his shoulder.

"I mean it, Brin… I'm scared shitless." T'Kir elaborated, "I'm totally at a loss."

"What would you do if you weren't scared?" Macen gently enquired.

"I'd have the procedure done in a second." T'Kir blurted without a moment's hesitation.

"Okay, we know _what_ you want to do." He said in a soothing voice, "Now, _why_ are you scared?"

"I can live with the paring down of my abilities." T'Kir struggled to explain, "It'll be inconvenient but I can do it. What I'm afraid of is that we'll lose our telepathic bond."

"Don't conventional Vulcans form permanent mental bonds with their partners?" Macen asked.

"Yeah, but…" T'Kir squirmed.

"Even if we were to lose our mind link we'd still have our natural rapport." Macen added, "I can live with just that."

T'Kir twisted around to face Macen, "So you want me to have the procedure done?"

"I want you to be happy." Macen reassured her, "I want you to make an informed decision relatively free of fear."

"I'm losing it." T'Kir revealed, "It's like the old days only worse. If I shut my barriers down for even a second, I'll drown and never surface."

"Sounds like the decision's already been made." Macen said.

T'Kir nodded, "Yeah, pretty much."

"So, all that's left is the doing." He coaxed her.

"Okay." T'Kir sighed, "We who are about to die and all that stuff."

"That's the spirit." Macen softly cheered, "Joachim would be proud."

"Oh joy, the evil elf would've won his approval at long last." T'Kir rolled her eyes.

"Ready?" Macen asked.

T'Kir rose off the couch, "As ready as I'm gonna get."

Macen stood next to her and wrapped his arms around her. She tightly squeezed his waist. They held on to each other for several minutes. Finally Macen lifted her chin and kissed her.

"Let's go." He urged.

T'Kir took a deep breath, "Here goes everything."

* * *

They left their quarters and headed for Sickbay. T'Kir entered and informed Galloway that she wanted to undergo the treatment. Grace looked victorious.

Grace looked over to Galloway, "Told you."

"I'm glad to be wrong." Galloway admitted.

"You were betting on me?" T'Kir accused.

"Nope." Grace happily replied, "Hayley was having doubts as to whether or not you'd say 'yes'. I told her you'd be crazy not to and that you were crazy but not _that _crazy."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence…I think." T'Kir dubiously looked at Grace.

"Not a prob." Grace replied in a chipper tone.

"T'Kir," Galloway interjected, "if you're ready, Tessa and I'll get you changed and prepped.

"Ah, hell." T'Kir breathed, "Who wants to live forever?"

* * *

The _Loki_ docked at _Barrinor Station_. Riker and Danan were there to greet the SPYards crew that had piloted her in. The "Captain" took Riker and relinquished the command codes. Danan was sitting at the Sensor suite. It was almost as impressive as the _Obsidian's_.

A woman appeared on the bridge. Danan judged her to be at least fifteen years younger than herself. She had a purposeful and confident air. Danan was immediately intrigued.

The stranger walked right to where Riker and the ship's temporary CO were conferring. The SPYards engineer immediately fell silent. Danan could tell that Riker was piqued.

"Can I help you?" Riker asked as courteously as his own anger would allow.

"Lt. Commander Michelle Prentiss, SID, reporting for duty. You're the team's XO so I'm reporting in." the woman said with a determined smile.

"Reporting for duty?" Riker repeated, "Who said anything about you reporting for duty?"

"I'm TDY with your team." Prentiss explained, "My orders come directly from Admiral Drake. They've been cleared by Captain Macen."

"They have?" Riker mused, "So, you're joining the team? What's your specialty?"

"I came up through Internal Affairs so I suppose you'd say that's my specialty." Prentiss replied.

Danan's radar went up as Riker asked, "And what are you investigating?"

"Why," Prentiss said softly with a sweet smile, "you and your team of course."

* * *

"Why so glum, chum?" Grace asked Macen as the two sat in the Team Room. She sat his drink down in front of him but he didn't touch it, "She's in good hands. If Hayley makes a single mistake or says 'Oops' Tessa will kill her."

Macen forced a smile, "I know." He waved aside Grace's fomenting protest, "I really do. It's just brought home to me, in a new way, how lost I would be without her."

Macen wished he didn't feel that way so strongly but it was the truth. In an age where the ethereal was becoming far more attractive, T'Kir was his anchor. They served in that function for each other. Macen helped keep T'Kir's telepathic demons at bay and she kept the monsters in his soul from devouring him. Fleeing from the path towards destruction that his work represented, Macen increasingly yearned to devote his life to teaching and historical research. With her gone, there would be nothing left to restrain him and he would drown his pain in the blood of others.

"You're not the only one that would be suddenly lost." Grace shared, "This whole 'being human' _shuk_ is totally beyond me. T'Kir's taught me how to forget everyone else's expectations and to just live for myself. She shows me how to do that everyday. Her influence makes me a happier, saner person. I know Ian appreciates it."

"And how is young Delaney doing?" an intrigued Macen asked.

"His duties aboard the _Intrepid _keep him busy." Grace smiled, "Admiral Johnson's harebrained missions keep him on his toes."

"Bob does get some of the most difficult cases." Macen said wryly, "Unlike us."

"As far as 'us' goes," Grace leaned back in her chair and gripped her cup of tea with both hands, "Now that we're over the panging of newfound love, we've settled into a slower rhythm. We're still friends but the torrid part of the affair is over. Ian is even seeing other people."

"Well, Delaney may not be in your future." Macen opined, "It sounds as though you're prepared for any eventuality."

Grace's look had a perceptive gleam, "And what would you know about this particular future?"

Macen took his first sip of his tea, "Mmm, it's good. Thanks, Hannah."

"I thought coffee was your stimulant of choice." Grace wore a bemused grin, "And you're avoiding the question."

"Tea is soothing." Macen ignored her comment, "Coffee isn't."

"Yeah," Grace wore a wistful look, "I need a crutch now and then too."

"Thanks for being such a good friend." Macen gratefully acknowledged

"To whom?" Grace teased, "To you or to T'Kir?"

"Primarily to her," Macen confessed, "but I'm also glad you keep her confidences. I'd hate for everybody to know my deepest secrets."

Grace blushed. _So he knows_, she thought. Basking him in her warmest smile, she replied, "And I thank you for not revealing any of my darker moments."

"From what T'Kir tells me, we three have closer bonds than anyone else on the team." Macen added, "You're the alien in a human body with the casual disregard for human life that is endemic to your race. T'Kir's learned the guilty thrill of killing. And I…"

"And you, in the deepest, darkest recesses of your soul, want to see the galaxy consumed by an orgy of death and destruction." Grace finished for him, "We make an interesting trio. Each of us is hiding from what we are and all of us gathering strength from the other."

"Does Ian know?" Macen wondered.

"He's come to realise that I'm more than I appear to be." Grace revealed, "He knows I'm a Kelvan. He just hasn't come to grips with what that means. I don't know if he can."

"The future will unfold as it should and I wish you all my hopes." Macen sincerely told her, "You deserve some happiness. Fates know you've given up enough."

"It was the least I could do." Grace blushed, "I betrayed your trust _three_ times. I wouldn't have given me that many chances."

"You were young, confused, and conflicted." Macen gently ticked off, "I knew if you were given enough time, and the right set of circumstances, you'd make the right choice."

"And which of my options was the correct one?" Grace inquired.

"Do you feel you've grown as a person?" Macen asked.

"Yes." Came Grace's ready answer.

"Do you feel as though you're contributing to the common good of the galactic population?" Macen enquired.

Grace frowned, "Of course I do."

"Do you think you could have accomplished that by going back to New Kelva?" Macen asked.

"I…" Grace hesitated, "I'm not sure. When I'm completely honest with myself I have to say 'No'."

"Then you made the right choice by staying here with us." Macen surmised.

"I guess." Grace was far from convinced.

"It's your call." Macen admitted, "I don't have to make my peace with it. You do."

Grace thought about it for a minute and then she smiled, "Since it's too late to change my mind I'll just press on and be happy with what I have here."

"And we're all grateful for your graciousness." Macen teased.

"As well you should be." Grace sniffed.

They shared a laugh and then Macen's comm badge began to chirp. He tapped it.

"Macen here." He tried to keep the worry from his voice.

"Captain," Came Riker's concerned voice, "we have a situation here at the _Loki_."

"She's arrived already?" Macen asked.

"Nearly an hour ago." Riker hesitated, "Are you all right?"

"T'Kir's undergoing surgery. I'm a little distracted right now." Macen ruefully admitted.

"Then I'll take care of the details like usual but we have a big glitch that needs your attention." Riker informed him.

Macen tried to keep the frustration he felt out of his voice, "What is it?"

"There's a Lt. Commander Prentiss here." Riker explained, "She said she's part of the team."

"She is?" Macen was confused.

"She says she's from HQ and temporarily assigned to us." Riker lowered his voice, "She's IA."

"Oh," realisation dawned within Macen's mind, "Find her quarters aboard the _Loki_. She'll be accompanying us on our next assignment."

"Sir?" Riker couldn't believe it.

"It was this or a formal inquiry." Macen explained.

"Got it." Now realisation dawned for Riker, "I'll see to her."

"Thank you." Macen said with relief, "Macen out."

Macen settled back and took another swig of tea. He stiffened suddenly.

_Brin?_ T'Kir's clarion call echoed through his mind.

_T'Kir!_ He urgently thoughtcast in reply, _Are you all right?_

He could hear her mental laughter, _I asked Hayley to wait before contacting you. I wanted to see how "we" did._

_ The procedure's over? _He asked.

_Yup. _T'Kir replied.

_And? _Macen wanted her to elaborate.

_I'll tell you more when you get here. _T'Kir laughed.

Macen jumped out of his seat and Grace yelped, "What is it?"

"T'Kir's out of surgery." Macen replied.

"How? What?" Grace babbled, "They haven't called for us."

"T'Kir did." Macen tapped the side of his head, "Trust me will ya?"

Grace rose, "Whatever you say. Lead on, Oh Infernal Leader."

"Shut up and move!" Macen urged as he ran out of the room.

_I wonder if anyone will ever be that eager about me._ Grace thought as she strolled out of the Team Room and headed for the lift.

* * *

"All right, Commander," Riker was far more gracious, "I've confirmed that you're to be attached to us. Have you selected quarters aboard ship?"

"Yes." Prentiss nodded, "I was told by Commander Ambril that this vessel would serve you and your team's needs during this mission. I made myself home in one of the cabins."

"Good thinking." Riker looked over Prentiss' Starfleet uniform, "You're not very discreet though. Change clothes and we'll get you kitted out for the mission."

Prentiss was surprised by the change in weather, "But I…"

"Commander," Riker grew stern, "we're going undercover. Your uniform could get us killed. Remove it at once."

Riker could see his words register with Prentiss. She nodded, "I fully expected to before we left. You just caught me off guard."

"Go." Riker urged.

Prentiss jerked her thumb towards the nearest hatch, "I'm going now."

"Good." Riker said approvingly.

"Bye." Prentiss said before she disappeared.

Danan approached, "Don't let that meek and mild act fool you. This one's a fighter."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Riker grimaced.

_So Big Bad Riker thinks I'm a pushover._ Prentiss thought victoriously as she approached her cabin, _Ha! What he doesn't know will get him convicted._

Actually, Prentiss didn't think Riker was the problem _if _there was a problem. The charges had been levelled at Joachim Dracas. Technically, Dracas wasn't a citizen of the Federation but he was serving aboard a Federation flagged ship with a Starfleet organised covert investigation team inside of the UFP. That made him culpable under the UFP's laws.

Macen was harder. If he was actively encouraging these incidents then a highly respected member of the covert operations community would be disgraced and possibly imprisoned. This SID team would be broken. Drake had ordered Prentiss to do all that she could to insure the viability of the unit. Prentiss wouldn't ignore a crime and it would be reported and fully dealt with.

Prentiss herself wasn't an especially priggish person nor was she a prudish one. She just worshipped at the feet of law and order. Unlike officers like Edward Jellico, Prentiss wasn't blinded by adherence to regulations. She didn't give a damn about regulations. All that mattered was right and wrong.

Prentiss would find out if there was something amiss here. She had a talent for rooting out the truth. That's what made her a celebrated investigator. She was good enough that Nechayev had arranged for her recent transfer and promotion. Those skills had earned her this case.

Prentiss was new enough that she had not yet succumbed to Macen's "cult of personality," as Admiral Drake put it. Macen was either revered or hated by his colleagues. Prentiss had been warned that she would swiftly discover why.

To be frank, Prentiss was looking forward to meeting the illustrious Brin Macen. She had ascertained for herself that the man had two followings at Starfleet. One side applauded his every move while the opposition wanted to see him on a penal colony on the frontier, preferably one susceptible to border raids. While Macen undoubtedly fell in somewhere between the galactic hero and universal archenemy mould, she wanted to see which version he himself subscribed to.

Prentiss unzipped her uniform jacket and removed it. Next came her red uniform blouse. Pants and boots followed. Left in her underwear and socks, she pulled a black, utilitarian jumpsuit out of "her" closet and tugged it on. Securing the zipper, she pulled on a pair of grey boots. Finishing off the outfit with a grey scarf tied around her neck. Fluffing out her hair with her fingers, Prentiss rejoined Riker and Danan on the _Loki's _bridge.

"Is this better?" Prentiss dutifully presented herself.

Riker looked to Danan. Danan folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes narrowed.

"Tom, go prep the shuttle." Danan ordered.

"What?" a startled Riker asked.

"The shuttle." Danan repeated, "Go prep it. We'll be along shortly."

Still not understanding but willing to trust Danan with his life, Riker left. Prentiss almost, _almost_, squirmed under Danan's intense scrutiny. She suddenly knew what it was like being a prisoner and subjected to her own brand of interrogation.

"Now, dearrie," Danan smiled, it was a cruel thing, "Let's find out about you."


	10. Chapter 10

Dracas woke with a cry. His phaser was in his hand and he waved it about, madly trying to find his enemy. Realising there was no tangible foe, he returned it to the shelf next to the runabout's bed. The bed itself could easily accommodate three men Dracas' size. He briefly enjoyed the humour in that carnal piece of fantasy.

His humour abruptly died. Dracas cursed himself. He'd been woken by a dream.

_A dream!_ He mentally snarled as he rose from the bed. He went into the attached sanitation unit and looked at himself in the medicine cabinet's mirrored surface. He looked worn and haggard. _It was only a dream_, he reminded himself.

"Gods above," Dracas whispered, "let it only be a dream."

Dracas returned to the bed and sat at its edge. He recalled its elements and shuddered again as the images replayed in his mind. The Roman Emperor Alaric had foresworn contact with the Federation. Dracas was ordered to kill the entire SID team.

Macen's death had been the hardest to accomplish but they had fallen one by one. Next, he slew Kiv Rever. Dracas had no idea how his stepfather had come to be on the _Obsidian_ nor did he care. Stan Guthrie had appeared at the last, armed and prepared to fight to the death. He'd made one last effort to talk to Dracas but Joachim had killed him while he was still speaking words of encouragement.

Finally, his bloody work done, Dracas activated the ship's auto destruct sequence but first he contacted the Emperor. He reported his success and then he fell on his own sword. The ship scuttled itself shortly thereafter and its destruction had woken Dracas.

_I'm losing my edge,_ Dracas lamented while being wracked by grief and remorse, _I'm failing as a soldier of Magna Roma._

Dracas recalled asking Rab Daggit how he retained his readiness now that he and Parva were married. Daggit had smiled and informed him that he was more battle ready then ever before in his life because he'd finally found something worth fighting for. Dracas had always thought that serving Alaric was his highest pursuit. Now, it crept up on him, it seemed he wanted more than that.

Out of loneliness and despair Dracas had forged a comfortable niche for himself with the SID. He discovering the joys of friendship, and if Guthrie were any indication, maybe he was ready to experiment with love. Having been deprived of both for most of his life, he wasn't certain of what to do next. How did his obligations to Alaric fit into this? Dracas desperately needed to talk to both Macen and Daggit about these issues.

Wide awake now, Dracas moved to the cockpit. He toyed with the idea of activating the comm and querying Macen that very instant. Something held him back, something intuitive. Checking the computer's auto pilot Dracas ascertained that the _Seeker_ was on course and travelling at the appropriate speed. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and proceeded to the rec room to use the resistance machines located there. Anything was better than reliving that cursed dream and nursing his doubts.

* * *

"Hello," Radil smiled brightly as she entered Parva's room, "how's the happy couple?"

"Hello yourself, Jenrya." Daggit smiled.

Parva's smile glittered in its brightness, "Hi there!"

Radil stepped back, "I thought you didn't like me."

"I didn't trust you." Parva replied, "Like had nothing to do with it. But everything changed after you started hanging out with that cute friend of yours. You're no longer after Rab so I can be nice to you again."

Radil blushed at the oblique reference to her strange relationship with Abby Collins. Danan's words had provoked a lot of introspective thought. Unfortunately, Radil hadn't come up with any conclusions. All she knew is that she enjoyed Collins' company so she was going to keep on revelling in it.

As far as the present went: Parva looked fabulous! She hadn't been this vibrant or looked this alive since her injury had occurred. If it weren't for the slight slurring of her speech and the conspicuous absence of certain details in her recitation of events or people, she'd be whole again. Radil said most of the former and withheld the latter.

If anything, Parva glowed all the brighter, "Why thank you. I don't remember ever feeling better. They're supposed to let me go home tomorrow. They'd better!"

"I agree." Radil laughed.

"So are just dropping by to say 'hi' or is there something you wanted?" Daggit seemed to sense Radil's underlying tension.

"I'd like to talk to you…alone." Radil informed Daggit.

Daggit looked to Parva. Parva merely smiled, "Go ahead Rab. She's harmless now."

Daggit grinned at the thought of anyone calling Radil "harmless". Grabbing his jacket, he followed Radil out of the hospital building to the walking path that meandered through the grounds. Daggit noted that despite their tranquil setting, Radil was armed.

"Getting as jumpy as the Captain and T'Kir are we?" he joked.

"What?" she asked through her distraction.

"Jenrya," Daggit stopped her by taking hold of her arm, "what's wrong?"

"Do I seem as though I'm in love?" Radil blurted.

Daggit was surprised, "No. At least you don't to me. Are you supposed to?"

"It's just something Lisea said." Radil begged off.

"Lees is very insightful but she isn't omniscient. What's going on?" Daggit was definitely intrigued now.

Radil was sorely tempted to bare her soul but she couldn't do it. Not yet. "It's just something that needs to stay private for a while longer…at least until I sort things out."

"Are you in love?" Daggit asked.

Radil met his piercing gaze, "I honestly don't know. That's what I have to figure out."

Daggit processed this and asked, "Is this about Abby Collins?"

Radil coloured. Throwing up her hands, she exasperatedly asked, "Is there anyone on this _frinxing _rock that doesn't know Abby's fallen for me?"

"I didn't know that." Daggit chuckled, "I was asking about you."

"I'm just confused." Radil confessed, "I don't know what to think."

"It seems to me you need to discuss this with Abby and not everyone else." Daggit opined.

"I'm afraid to." Radil admitted.

"Then you already have your answer." Daggit revealed, "The odds are you just don't know if you can live with it."

Radil pondered that. She exhaled slowly, "Thanks Rab. I knew I could count on you."

"That's what friends are for." Daggit wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. Startled and crushed, Radil didn't respond. Daggit let go of her and she grinned.

"I think I like the 'new' Rab." She admitted.

"I know I do." Daggit confessed.

"Tell Parva she does good work." Radil urged.

Daggit chuckled, "Thanks. I will. How about you? Will you be all right?"

Radil nodded, "I think so. We'll be off on a mission in a few days. That'll give me time to straighten my thoughts out and figure out what I really want."

"Nothing like combat to clear the ol' head." Daggit grinned.

"Exactly." Radil started to walk away, "Later!"

"Good luck!" Daggit called after her. She gave him a thumb's up. Satisfied, he returned to the hospital.

* * *

"Who or what, specifically, are you here to investigate?" Danan's voice and eyes were icy.

"I already gave Commander Riker my answer." Prentiss doggedly clung to that answer. It was the third time she had used it in this general line of inquiry, "I am bound by confidentiality to withhold any other information."

"Hang confidentiality." Danan hissed, "I can help you or hinder you as I see fit. Give me a reason to help."

"You were Captain Macen's lover and confidant for a time. You served as his 1st Officer both in the Maquis and directly after the Dominion War. Why should I believe that you'd do anything to assist me?" Prentiss demanded.

"This is about Dracas and that wretched sword of his, isn't it?" Danan pressed on. Noting the surprised acknowledgement in Prentiss' eyes, she elaborated, "This is about his interrogating people at sword point."

"Very good, Commander." Prentiss referencing Danan's Reserve commission, "You may prove useful after all."

"Listen, _Commander_," Danan snarled, "I won't be your puppet. Ask me whatever you want and I'll answer honestly. I want to see justice prevail as badly as you do."

"We'll see." Prentiss was confident again. She was back in control and things would stay that way, "Don't you think we should rejoin Commander Riker? He's undoubtedly wondering about us."

"Follow me." Danan said gruffly and led the way to the airlock.

* * *

T'Kir was standing by a biobed when Macen arrived. He ran over to her and swept her up in her arms. He lavished her with kisses until she finally stopped him. Laughing, she demanded to be put down.

Macen seated her on the bed, "You're really fine?"

"I'm perfect." T'Kir joyously replied, "Hayley was about to step outside."

"Why?" Macen wondered.

"I can 'read' her everywhere in this room." T'Kir revealed, "Now we're testing for proximity and distance."

Galloway attached her newly fabricated comm badge to her blouse, "Ready?"

"When you are." T'Kir jovially replied.

The Sickbay doors opened to admit Grace, "Nice disappearing act, _Captain_."

"You dawdled." Macen retorted.

"I have never dawdled in my life." Grace shot back.

T'Kir looked at Macen, "Let me see it." After a moment's silence, T'Kir apologetically looked at Grace, "Sorry Honey, you dawdled."

"Sure, take his side." Grace grumped.

"_Some_body has to." T'Kir pinched Macen's cheek

"Stop that." Macen swatted her hand away.

"You're just too cute." T'Kir cooed. Macen rolled his eyes.

"I'm going now." Galloway announced to no one in particular and stepped out into the corridor.

"Hand me my comm badge, will ya?" T'Kir requested of Macen. He produced the badge and she held on to it.

T'Kir's comm badge chirped. She tapped it with her thumb, "T'Kir here."

"I'm five metres away from the door. How are you doing?" Galloway asked.

"You're getting' fuzzy." T'Kir reported, "Try reporting in every metre or so."

A moment later, "What about now?"

"I can sense your presence but I can't read your mind." T'Kir answered, "Try one more metre."

A longer period of time passed and then the badge chirped, "Anything?"

"Nope." T'Kir wistfully replied, "Come on back."

"Well," T'Kir rallied, "I may be a fraction of what I was but at least I'm still me."

Macen and Grace each hugged her. Galloway started to remove her comm badge but T'Kir stopped her.

"Keep it. You're family now. Wear it when you visit." She informed Galloway.

Galloway was touched and it showed, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." T'Kir replied, "Am I cleared to leave yet?"

"Just gather your things off of that bed and use the dressing room and you'll be ready to leave." Galloway discreetly ran scans while T'Kir gathered up the clump that comprised her belongings. While T'Kir dressed, Galloway addressed Macen, "Her scans read 'Normal' but she should be watched for signs of confusion, dementia, or blackouts. If any of those occur, call me or the nearest neurologist."

Macen memorised the list and then smiled, "Gotcha. Thank you."

"First we have to see if it's a permanent fix." Galloway replied, "I was awfully conservative in the adjustments I made. They may not hold."

Macen shrugged, "Then you'll be a little more liberal next time. _If_ there _is_ a next time."

T'Kir emerged from the dressing room wearing a bright and happy smile, "C'mon Lover, I'm hungry."

"For actual food?" Macen asked.

"Of course." T'Kir replied, "Why? What were you thinking?"

"It could've been anything." Macen grinned, "Your tastes run the gamut."

"Yah, yah." T'Kir dismissively waved her hand, "Just feed me."

"Hannah," Macen faced his chief pilot, "Can you take Ms. Galloway back to the surface in the shuttle? It's parked at Tier Seven, slot B."

"And how are you two coming home?" Grace enquired.

"We'll take the commuter shuttle." T'Kir replied. She made shooing motions, "You two, get out. I wanna sample that new restaurant on Level Two of the station's Galleria."

"The one Chef co-owns?" Grace asked accusingly, "You just don't want to foot the bill for two more."

"Actually," T'Kir smiled sweetly, "I just had a delicate procedure performed upon my brain and I'd like a quiet moment to celebrate its success with my husband. Understand?"

Grace deflated, "We'll just be going then."

Galloway was all smiles as she exited Sickbay, "Enjoy yourselves."

T'Kir turned to Macen, "before we go, I was wonderin' if you'd help me out with something?"

"Like what?" Macen asked, instantly curious as to why she was acting conspiratorially.

"I want you to authorise Tessa to subdue Shannon Forger if she tries to rewrite any of Tessa's subroutines." T'Kir revealed.

"Shannon will just deactivate her and do what she wants." Macen countered.

"I want to disable her deactivation command." T'Kir grinned, "She'll only be inactive if she _chooses_ to be."

Macen shared T'Kir's grin, "But she'll still activated by vocal command?"

T'Kir pushed at his shoulder, "Of course. What d'you take me for?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Macen teased.

"Watch it buster," T'Kir warned, "or no nookie for you for two weeks."

Macen grinned, "I could stand to catch up on my rest."

T'Kir backhanded his arm, "You can be such a nincompoop."

"I try." Macen beamed, "I truly do."

"Can I adjust her program or not?" T'Kir demanded.

"Tessa," Macen addressed the EMH herself, "What do you think?"

Tessa wore an evil grin, "I like the idea. No one's gonna _frinx _with my program."

"And I'm supposed to wonder who you've been hanging out with?" Macen mused. Turning to T'Kir he said, "Go for it, dearie."

T'Kir gave a thumb's up as she accessed the holomatrix. Macen and Tessa talked while T'Kir whiled away her time. Just over thirty minutes later, T'Kir finished.

"Try turning yourself off." T'Kir requested. Tessa vanished. T'Kir grinned, "_That _worked."

"Computer, activate EMH." Macen ordered.

Tessa appeared. Her face was scrunched up, "I'm not gonna say it."

"You don't have to." T'Kir wore a giddy smile, "It's optional from now on."

"Thank you." Tessa said with the utmost gratitude.

"Computer, deactivate EMH." T'Kir ordered. Tessa looked hurt but when nothing happened, an evil smile crossed her features.

"Let's see Kort shut me up now." She growled.

"You give him what for when he tries." T'Kir urged.

"I will." Tessa said and then when the couple prepared to leave, she suddenly spoke up, "Would it be possible to place holoemitters somewhere else in the ship? Somewhere besides Sickbay?" Tessa's courage faltered and she mumbled, "I was just wondering."

Macen grinned, "I actually have technicians arriving tomorrow to give me an estimate of how much it would cost to install holoemitters throughout the ship. What's the point of having an EMH if she can't travel to an emergency?"

Tessa threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek, "Thank you!"

T'Kir wore a bemused expression, "So, do I have to put you on a leash?"

"Maybe so." Macen grinned, "You'd better be good to me."

"No nookie you, four weeks." T'Kir declared.

"I'd feel threatened but you'll never last that long." Macen sagely informed her.

T'Kir wore a goofy grin and bobbed her head, "I know."

"Want to blow this joint?" Macen reached out and took T'Kir's hand.

"Yes." T'Kir emphatically agreed, "I'm starving."

"Then let us be off." Macen turned back, "Bye Tessa."

"Later Honey." T'Kir called out.

After they left, Tessa returned to the physician's desk. Sitting down at it, she retrieved her padd. Today's selection, like yesterdays, came from Macen. It was a compilation of the most accurate biographies of Captain James T. Kirk. Macen had selected them based upon their strengths and historiography. So far, they had proven delightful. Tessa could easily see why Macen had referred to Kirk as his personal hero.

Tessa was beginning to think that Macen was hers. She idly wondered how T'Kir would react to that bit of news. Tessa felt it was better to keep it a secret. After all, she was an Emergency Medical Hologram. She had no tangible mind to read. Wearing a guilty smile, Tessa returned to her reading.


	11. Chapter 11

The hourly commuter shuttle detoured and landed at the Outbound Ventures field. Macen and T'Kir shook everyone's hands on their way out. They waved at the passengers as the shuttle lifted off and proceeded to its scheduled stop. Macen was amused by the proceedings and T'Kir practically floated on a cloud.

"And you thought it was bad being a local celebrity." She playfully accused.

"It _did_ come in handy." Macen conceded.

"Hah!" T'Kir literally pounced on him, "You loved it. Admit it. I know I did."

Macen struggled to pry her fingers off of his arm. She was gripping so hard it hurt. She was so excited she didn't realise what she was doing.

"Why're you pulling my hands offa you?" T'Kir suddenly became cognizant of what was occurring around her, "Elements Brin! I've squeezed fingerprints into your arms."

"The dangers of hanging out with an excited Vulcan." Macen jovially said, "I needed to put my jacket back on anyway."

"Don't laugh about this." T'Kir was getting upset, "I hurt you. That's important and don't you dare give me any psychobabble bullshit about how it isn't."

"Yes, Mother." Macen said somewhat contritely.

"I oughtta…" T'Kir had to rein herself in, "I swear by all that's holy if you don't take me seriously you can find someone else to spend forever with."

"You mean it?" Macen was touched.

"Of course I mean it." T'Kir lamented, "What am I doin'? Talking for the sake of talking?"

"No." Macen waved all of that away, "Go back to the part about together forever."

"Oh. _Oh_!" T'Kir blushed, "I meant to tell you `bout that."

"I thought you wanted to preserve your _katra_ on Vulcan." Macen reminded her.

T'Kir scrunched up her face and kicked at a nonexistent rock, "Well, I got to thinking. If you held my _katra_ then I would go wherever you did when you died and went on to the 'next plane of existence'."

Macen nodded, "It could work. Our telepathic rapport brought you along with me to the Nexus when we died."

Macen's face lit up with joy, then his countenance darkened, "Are you sure you want to do this? I don't know what happens next. It could be horrible and it could be permanent."

T'Kir wore a wry expression, "You don't think I've thought about that? The point is: if there's a chance to spend even a minute longer with you I'm willing to risk it."

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" Macen was overwhelmed.

"Not for forty-three minutes." T'Kir grinned, "A veritable lifetime."

Macen swept her into his arms and let his kiss express how strongly he felt. Releasing her, Macen watched while T'Kir caught her breath. She fanned herself and a naughty grin played at her lips.

"Would you like to discuss this further in private?" she asked.

"I'm up for a preliminary debate right now." Macen was eager to resume snogging.

"So am I," T'Kir sighed, "but naturally, we're about to have company."

Macen looked around and saw several people, led by Grace, coming their way.

"Telepathy?" Macen wondered.

T'Kir shook her head, "Ears. They're upwind and noisy. They're just entering my new telepathic range."

"Any clues as to what's up?" Macen whispered.

T'Kir leaned into him, revelling in the closeness of their bodies, and whispered into his ear, "All the Security officers know is that trouble is afoot and that someone had the audacity of landing their shuttle here." A quick grin later, T'Kir finished, "Hannah is as unreadable as ever."

The last had been said loudly for Grace's benefit. The flustered Kelvan _almost _managed a smile. It looked more like a grimace.

"Where have you two been?" Grace's hands went wildly flying through the air, "We've been trying to reach for over an hour."

"We were on the station." Macen grinned.

The unflappable, thrill seeking pilot had become unflapped, "Then why didn't you respond to your comm badges?"

Macen pulled his jacket on. It was a brown Earth styled "flight jacket" dating back to the earliest days of Terran aviation. It had been a gift from Elias Vaughn back in the earliest days of their friendship. T'Kir had unearthed it in his closet and now Macen found it to be the most comfortable and versatile jacket that he owned. Out of one the flapped pockets Macen with drew a case. Opening it revealed two comm badges.

"You mean these?" Macen grinned.

Grace looked on the verge of apoplexy. When she spoke, the words came grinding out between her teeth, "You've had them the _entire _time?"

"Yup." T'Kir's head happily bobbed, "The case is soundproof. We never knew a thing."

Grace turned around so they couldn't see her. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" came screaming out of her mouth. She visibly restored her composure and turned around.

"Feel better?" Macen asked.

"Somewhat." Grace replied.

Macen handed a comm badge to T'Kir, "Here."

T'Kir accepted it and tapped it with her thumb. Nothing happened. T'Kir thrust it back in Macen's direction, "This is yours."

T'Kir received her badge and she tapped it with her thumb, "Attention Comm Centre, this is the Voice of Doom. Destruction has arrived and your lives are forfeit."

"Ma'am?" a nervous voice replied.

T'Kir closed the line with a giggle, "That oughtta keep `em guessing."

Grace buried her face in her hands, "You have _nooo_ idea."

"Hannah," Macen grew serious, "all kidding aside, what's wrong?"

"It's that IA officer!" the words came in a rush, "She's assembling the whole team. She's preparing to take preliminary statements from everyone. She was about to issue an arrest warrant for the two of you."

Macen and T'Kir exchanged a meaningful glance. Macen addressed Grace in a soothing voice, "Hannah, she can't arrest us. Barrinor's outside of the Federation. The Barrinoran authorities would need compelling evidence in order to cooperate. She doesn't have that."

Macen's voice was soft and gentle, forcing her to stop panicking long enough to listen. When his words registered, her breathing normalised, "Really?"

"Right now all she has is smoke, mirrors, and a lot of bluster." Macen reassured her.

"She has plenty of those." Grace bitterly muttered.

"Let's go kick her ass!" T'Kir started for the headquarters building.

"Whoa!" Macen called out, "Ease off, Ms. Bloodwing. _I'll_ handle the IA problem."

T'Kir halted in her tracks. The reference towards Romulus' famed raptor wasn't lost on her. The birds were fiercely single-minded. They were so intent on their prey they would needlessly sacrifice their lives, while in pursuit of prey, in traps set for them.

"Okay," T'Kir relented, "but hurry up!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Macen sounded tired.

* * *

As they entered Outbound Ventures' Headquarters through the public entrance, Macen squared his shoulders. He was torn between two desires. One was to just kill the intrusive IA officer and be done with it. The second required much more finesse and personal strength. He had to talk her down.

Although he had never complained about it, helping maintain T'Kir's tenuous grip on sanity during their time with the Maquis had taken a huge toll on Macen. He never complained because it was an act of love, platonic and romantic. He suspected T'Kir had gleaned that particular item out of his memories but in turn she had never said anything. It was a measure of trust between them that he had loved her wholeheartedly, without desire for remuneration or reward, and that the events would go on unspoken.

Still, that kind of daily toll had left its mark. He no longer desired to nurse a problem when he could simply, and forcefully, deal with it _now_. That attitude had first shown itself during the Maquis Rebellion and had become finely honed during his time with the SID. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had not only bent the rigid framework of legality but had also broken it a time or two.

When he had broken the law it had been out of expediency not malice. Macen had a high regard for the concept of law and order. He simply had a problem with certain laws and the way they were applied.

Despite all of this, Macen was sworn to uphold the laws of the Federation _and _to obey them himself. If the SID wanted to take him to task, he would comply with their investigation. He would _not_, however, sit back and let his people get intimidated. He was the team's commanding officer and that meant he was responsible for their actions.

_Even if they don't know the Federation's laws or customs, _he thought to himself.

"Thinking about Joachim, aren't you?" T'Kir whispered. She hadn't used their rapport even though she'd obviously been monitoring his thoughts through it. It was a nice illusion of privacy.

"Yup." He whispered back, "This could get ugly."

"Hold the faith, Love." T'Kir took hold of his arm, "The good guys will prevail."

She kissed him on the cheek and Macen blushed, "Exactly how long have you been monitoring my thoughts?"

"Long enough." T'Kir patted his arm with her free hand, "Now let's rip somebody's throat out."

"Right." Macen growled.

* * *

The workers in the reception area looked terrified until they saw Macen. Hope began to liven up some of their features. Clouds of doubt lingered over others. This scene was repeated as Macen navigated his way through the office areas and made his way to the lift that descended into the underground hangar and bunker areas.

The lift doors opened to reveal the cavernous hangar where the _Solstice_ and the _Idiot's Delight_ were stored. The _Blackbird_-class _Solstice_ dwarfed the runabout sized _Idiot's Delight_. These ships were the personal vessels of Macen and T'Kir respectively.

Some had questioned their need to maintain private craft. After all, Macen commanded the _Obsidian_. However, the _Nova_-class surveyor was owned by Outbound Ventures. Even though Macen was the founder and co-owner of OV, it wasn't truly his ship. The _Solstice _provided him with a personal craft that could be used on unofficial trips and outings. It was rented, on occasion, by Outbound Ventures for clandestine operations where the _Obsidian_ wasn't adequate.

The _Idiot's Delight_ had a convoluted history. T'Kir purchased the craft from Quark for use in an undercover mission. _Skylark_-class scouts were known for their many strengths and even more for their innumerable weaknesses. They were a modular platform like Starfleet's _Danube_-class runabout. T'Kir had extensively upgraded and modified the diminutive scoutship.

It had often been argued that neither T'Kir nor Outbound Ventures _needed _the _Idiot's Delight_ but T'Kir did in a very real sense. She had never owned anything before in her adult life. The tiny scout provided her with her first real taste of permanency. It was a lesson that had sown seeds throughout her life.

Those seeds had blossomed into her marriage, her friendships, and even her present commitment to the SID. She had learned the costs of love, something that had been beyond her grasp in the Maquis. Few could say that the lessons had been unnecessary. Those that did did so out of selfish motive.

* * *

Standing in the shadows of these two ships stood Michelle Prentiss. She was surrounded by a circle comprised of Riker, Danan, Daggit, Radil, and Kort. Macen's empathic senses tasted the moods of his teammates. Riker was indignant, Danan was incredulous. Radil was disgusted and Kort was impatient. Daggit was the volcano waiting to erupt.

Daggit was irate. His emotions were a patina of guilt, rage, indignation, and apathy. As the trio neared, Daggit took hold of Prentiss' throat and began to squeeze. Riker and Kort tried to pry his fingers loose. Radil delivered her most savage chop to the back of his neck but all was to no avail. Finally, Macen intervened.

"Release her Rab." Macen said in a firm, yet surprisingly quiet, voice. Daggit hesitated and Macen raised his voice, "That's an order, mister."

Daggit released her throat and stepped back with a disinterested glance towards the collapsed IA officer. Kort examined Prentiss' ravaged throat while Radil angrily confronted Daggit.

"What the hell are you doing?" Radil yelled as she pushed Daggit backwards.

Macen interposed himself between them, "Back off, Radil. Rab, let's have a talk over by the _Solstice_."

Macen's ship was the furthest thing away from the lifts and the two went walking that way, each silent and brooding. T'Kir watched them go while Grace observed Prentiss' struggle to rise. Kort helped her up and she confronted T'Kir.

"It's about time you got here." Prentiss rasped, "I have questions…"

T'Kir coolly appraised her and graced her with a wintry smile, "Dearie, you and your questions can go to hell."

"Regulations state…" Prentiss struggled to continue.

T'Kir interrupted, "Want me to tell you about regulations? Starfleet hires us to undertake missions where regulations will prove embarrassing. What happens when we complete those missions? People with their collective heads up their collective butts poke their nose into our business. You're here to crucify my husband. I'm not gonna let that happen, _capiche_?"

"So you refuse to give testimony…" Prentiss began before being cut off again.

"Honey, I'm not Starfleet. I don't wanna be Starfleet and I've never had a use for Starfleet. I was happy being a rebel guerrilla fighter. I'm here because of _him_." T'Kir pointed at Macen, "So don't give me some textbook lecture on civic duty. I've given at the altar, literally, and I'm not gonna give up what I have left."

"So," Prentiss smiled, "you're saying he's guilty… Auuugghhh!" Prentiss clutched her head and went down on her knees.

"Don't press me." T'Kir warned, "You won't survive the encounter."

* * *

"Okay Rab," Macen stared Daggit down, "what was that?"

Daggit looked defiant but that quickly faded. Heaving a heavy sigh he said, "I don't know. Parva's having her heart examined and she's waiting for me. I told that…_person_ that Radil and I had been outside in the corridor when Joachim threatened Hiram Zeist with his sword."

"Is that what this is about?" Macen asked.

"That and Joachim stabbing Harkins on the bridge." Daggit answered, "Hannah was the only one present at both events so she's been getting the worst of it."

"I noticed." Macen replied. A scream cut through the hangar like a knife. Macen saw that Prentiss was down and T'Kir was standing over her. Touching her mind through their rapport, he sensed cruel satisfaction. He ran to the scene of the disturbance.

"What's happened?" he asked though he dreaded the answer. He noticed that Prentiss was still breathing and some of the tension lines in his face faded, "T'Kir?"

_She threatened you._ Came her telepathic reply.

Her sense of defiance threatened to overwhelm Macen. He rallied his defences and responded to that particular piece of news, _I can take care of myself, you know._

_Not against a guttersnipe like that._ T'Kir hotly insisted.

_While I appreciate the sentiment,_ Macen ruefully smiled, _you're just proving her point when you lash out like that._

T'Kir fidgeted and then woefully admitted, _I never thought of that_.

_That's what I thought. _Macen declared and then asked, _You enjoyed it though, didn't you?_

_ Oh yeah!_ Came gushing out of T'Kir's mind. Afterwards she was more repentant, _Sorry._

_ You can't deny who or what you are but you can control it._ Macen advised.

"Nyuh." T'Kir stuck out her tongue.

Macen rolled his eyes, "_That _conversation has come to an end."

"What conversation?" Prentiss croaked.

"A private conversation, miss…" Macen offered her a hand.

"_Lt. Commander _Michelle Prentiss." Prentiss said as she accepted Macen's hand and unsteadily rose to her feet, "Starfleet Special Investigations Division."

"I do know who sent you, Commander." Macen dryly remarked.

Prentiss seemed unsure of herself for the briefest of moments. Recovering her composure, she thrust ahead, "It's a new posting for me. Sometimes I need to remind myself that I'm no longer working for Internal Affairs."

"And yet here you are." Macen murmured.

Prentiss had the grace to look uncomfortable for the briefest time, "I need to schedule a time to take your statement."

"No," Macen said, "you need to accompany me to my office."

"Are you prepared to give your deposition?" Prentiss eagerly asked.

Macen shook his head, "We're going to have a little chat and then I'll decide whether or not you have access to my personnel."

"That's irregular." Prentiss frowned.

Macen laughed, "We _are_ irregulars. We're contracted privateers not a traditional Starfleet unit. Learn to be flexible before you drown yourself in quoting regulations that I'll ignore."

"I don't give a damn about regulations." Prentiss' eyes narrowed, "I only care about justice."

Macen stood with his hands on his hips, "Good. Then let's go to my office and see that justice is served."

Prentiss finally relented, "Very well."

T'Kir made to follow. Macen stopped her, "Not this time. We'll be back in a minute. Everyone but Rab wait here."

Daggit looked surprised, having just rejoined the main group, "Me?"

"You have a wife that needs you." Macen smiled, "Catch a ride in the lift with us. I'm sure the Commander doesn't mind."

Prentiss looked miffed but she remained silent. Daggit boarded the lift with the two investigators. He pondered how different their styles were, at least based upon initial observations. Macen was all intuition suffused with logic. He felt his way through problems and made huge theoretical leaps.

Prentiss was much more rigid. She built her cases one data file at a time. She layered pieces of evidence atop one another until a coalescent whole was forged. She was eager and relentless, if her earlier treatment of the SID team was any indication. He wondered how she would fare in Macen's office.

Macen could be as relentless and dogged as anyone Daggit had encountered. Macen had once remarked to Daggit that the way to beat an adversary was to understand that adversary's strengths and weaknesses and pit those same strengths and weaknesses against them. Daggit seriously considered being a fly on the wall but if T'Kir had been denied access that meant absolutely no one would be allowed into that area.

The lift doors opened and Daggit escaped without another glance behind him. Macen led Prentiss and she stiffly, and proudly, followed. Macen exchanged a pleasantry with the aide camped outside his office area and she released the door. The door slid aside and Macen entered in with Prentiss trailing behind.

Prentiss took it all in. She faced two desks, joined together in a "V". Both contained computer/communications stations. Laid out before the desks, almost in supplication, sat three stuffed chairs. A coffee table sat before them. Off to the left was a couch. To the right, a display case and bookshelf.

Prentiss approached the case. On it were some of Starfleet's highest awards for service and valour. Also present were pictures of smiling Vulcans and Romulans. These were undoubtedly a legacy from T'Kir's childhood on Shial. Holopictures of Macen, T'Kir, and Lisea Danan with Ro Laren and other scruffy looking individuals were a testament to their days in the Maquis. The expressions of those depicted varied from elated to haunted. Ro, Macen and T'Kir looked genuinely happy while Danan looked troubled. The others were unknown to her and irrelevant to her investigation.

The books on the shelf varied. _The Prince_ by Niccolo Machiavelli, _The Gallic Wars_ by Julius Caesar, _On War _by Carl von Clausewitz and _The Art of War_ by Sun Tzu were prominently displayed. Also featured were _Dialectics_ by Surak, _New Order_ by Gul Drad Feral, _Miasma_ by Glen Barus, and most conspicuously, _Memories of the Keptin_ by Pavel Chekov. Prentiss saw a theme in Macen's choices, Chekov's biography aside. Each was a treatise on politics and warfare both pro and con.

Macen stood beside the desk to Prentiss' right. A replicator was built into the wall. Macen went to it and ordered a coffee drink. He offered Prentiss a drink and/or snack of her choice. After a moment's deliberation, she opted for ginger tea and a scone.

"I'm surprised that you're being so gracious considering the reception that I've received thus far." Prentiss remarked.

Macen shrugged, "People don't react well when they're threatened. I don't feel threatened so I can be more generous."

"You share this office?" Prentiss motioned towards the other desk.

"With my wife." Macen explained, "T'Kir and I are the co-owners of Outbound Ventures. It's easier to make joint decisions when you share the same space."

"Didn't you found Outbound Ventures on your own with Admiral Drake's assistance?" Prentiss enquired.

"I started the company with funds received from Amanda and I ran it on my own until I got married." Macen explained, "T'Kir is my life partner, she's fully capable of running this company herself, why shouldn't she be my business partner?"

"I still don't know…" Prentiss' words drifted off.

Macen smiled, "I take it you've never been seriously involved."

"No." Prentiss blinked, "But what does that…"

"It's not for everyone." Macen interjected.

Prentiss glowered, "Why did you want to see me in private?"

"Admiral Drake personally informed me that you are here to observe my crew in action during our next mission and to utilise these observations in determining whether or not to initiate a probe into possible past malfeasance. Am I correct?"

Prentiss nodded, "But I also need…"

"You don't need anything else." Macen harshly cut her off, "You have our after action reports, the evidence from the flight recorders, and the file on each of us. That's sufficient."

"So you won't grant me access to your personnel to review the facts of this case?" Prentiss became belligerent.

"You don't have a case yet." Macen retorted, "Your mission is the appraisal of my team's normal operational methods. That's it. If you still have questions afterwards then we can discuss this more fully during an official inquiry."

"You seem awfully confident." Prentiss observed.

"You've read all of the after action reports?" Macen asked.

Prentiss nodded and Macen smiled, "Then you realise that Chief Dracas' initial actions took place _before_ he was a member of my crew or team. Later, he was ordered to harm someone as a matter of a bluff to persuade a prisoner to talk. The informant talked and no violent action was needed."

"So, Dracas knew you were bluffing?" Prentiss leaned forward.

"No." Macen shook his head, "That's what made the gambit successful."

"So Dracas really was going to stab Zeist?" Prentiss eyes narrowed.

"He would have if Zeist had maintained his silence and I didn't call him off." Macen easily explained.

"Mr. Zeist soiled himself and yet you didn't allow him to change clothes. Why is that?" Prentiss inquired.

"We were in a combat zone." Macen replied more coolly, "Finding Hiram a diaper wasn't part of my larger concerns."

"Your attitude is revealing." Prentiss remarked.

"Isn't it though?" Macen cheerfully mused.

Prentiss' brow furrowed and she wore a confused expression. Macen delighted in sensing her conflict. She'd obviously drawn a mental picture of him from reading the pertinent reports and now she was facing the true reality of the person. He was pleased to confound her expectations.

Prentiss broke her silence, "When will Joachim Dracas be reporting in?"

"As soon as he returns from Earth." Macen answered, "He's the reason we're delaying the mission for four days. Once he checks off on the _Loki_ we'll depart."

"The SPYards team thoroughly shook her down. Why do you…" Prentiss noted Macen's disapproval and stopped, "What?"

Macen's eyes glinted with a pained expression, "You've never served aboard a starship have you?"

"I was a junior Security officer aboard the _Destiny_ for two years." Prentiss proudly announced.

"Long enough for you to make it to Lt. J.G. and transfer to IA." Macen stipulated.

"Er…yes." Prentiss confirmed.

"Let me explain something to you," Macen spoke softly, "before you take a vessel, any vessel, into a potentially hazardous area you have you Chief Engineer thoroughly inspect the boat. Next you make certain that your officers have a basic understanding of their stations and their related equipment. Practice can occur en route but the fundamentals _have _to be there before you disembark."

Prentiss gratefully thanked Macen, "Thanks for being understanding. Most people would have browbeaten me."

"I might later." Macen grinned, "There's plenty of time yet."

"So what do I do until the mission gets underway?" Prentiss wondered.

"Get to know my team." Macen suggested, "They'll all be on the _Loki_ trying her systems out. Learn about who they are and why they do what they do before you see them actually doing it."

Prentiss actually relaxed enough to smile, "A novel approach. I think I'll try it."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." Macen smiled in return, "Now, while you're finishing your tea and scone, tell me what's happening back at SID Headquarters."

Prentiss smiled and began to recount the recent exploits of the other SID teams.


	12. Chapter 12

Four days later found Ryst landing on an elite landing pad situated at an upper level of the citadel recently renamed the Stronghold. Originally it had been Mityr's planetary defence headquarters. Later, as law and order evaporated, it became the last redoubt of those opposed to anarchy. Under Bertram Sindis the facility had been returned to its original status as a defence centre. Sindis lived within its walls and held court there. It was seen as an imperial palace by the average citizen of Mityr.

A full honour guard met Ryst's runabout. At the head of the guard was Sindis himself. He knew who and what she was yet he hadn't kept at arm's length or tried to impress her with his own power base. Ryst was intrigued by the man's self assurance.

"You honour me with your presence, Master Sindis." Ryst said as she descended the runabout's boarding ramp and Sindis took her offered hand. Ryst ordered the door closed and it sealed behind her.

"It is you who honour us, Mistress Ryst." Sindis bowed his head once, "I have long awaited an emissary from Robhurt B'nner. To send a personal representative who is also an Angosian will prove fascinating if not ultimately profitable."

"Then we must start over." Ryst said, "I'm Annika to my comrades."

"And I am Sindis to mine." Sindis remarked with an easy smile.

That particular statement was revealing. Iridians closely guarded their first names. They only allowed social peers or superiors to use their given names. Sindis was, in effect, establishing dominance.

_Or at least trying to._ Ryst mused to herself.

Ryst was supremely confident in her own abilities…or at least she had been before. Her multiple defeats at the hands of Brin Macen had scarred her ego. Sindis, however, wasn't Macen. Iridians were known for being quick and their lean frames were very strong but neither of those factors was a concern. Sindis had already misjudged her and if that were to continue then she would have him.

"I'm looking forward to a mutually beneficial partnership." Ryst lied though a bright smile.

"Then let us be away to begin discussions on how we can assist one another." Sindis kept his grip on her fingers and he guided her into the fortress. He glided with every movement and Ryst was envious of his grace.

_I've been a soldier too long to move that fluidly_. She ruefully thought. Her movements were smooth and precise but Sindis was a veritable dancer.

Ryst wondered where she was being led but she kept quiet. Weaving their way through interconnecting corridors they eventually arrived in a small study. Sindis dismissed the guards and a liveried steward appeared. Sindis ordered sandwiches and some spring wine. That business concluded, Sindis ushered Ryst to a comfortable chair.

The study was lined with bookshelves. A desk dominated one corner with a comp/com system atop it. A holographic fireplace crackled inside another wall. The centre of the room held a table, a couch and two chairs. These were angled so that all of them afforded a view of the fireplace and partook of the heating unit built within it.

Sindis sat on the coach and appraised his visitor, "You hardly match your reputation, which is formidable, by the way."

"And you hardly look or act like a cold blooded killer despite your reputation for lethality is firmly established." Ryst verbally fenced.

Sindis studied her for a moment and then a genuine smile spread across his face, "I like you, Annika Ryst. I honestly do. Most people quail in front of me but you are as confident in yourself as I am about myself. That's rare gift. It is a rarer thing for one's deeds to match up with their confidence. You have these two exemplary gifts. Treasure them."

"I do." Ryst replied, "Sindis, Now tell me…"

Sindis stopped by raising his hand, "Please, let me correct myself. Call me Bertram."

Ryst smiled, "Very well, Bertram, we need to start by discussing our ongoing joint venture."

"Ah, yes," Sindis nodded, "I've had a progress report just this morning…"

* * *

In orbit over Barrinor the _Loki_ lay docked to the _KX_-type station. Her systems were all on and running. The bridge crew, having spent the last three days familiarising themselves with their stations, stood ready. Everyone waited for Dracas to finish one last diagnostic and then they would clear moorings and depart. No one waited for that moment more eagerly than Michelle Prentiss.

Prentiss had no station so her time was whiling away while she watched the tedium of a stationside departure. She hadn't had an opportunity to meet Dracas yet. Macen had advised her to wait until they were underway to try and ingratiate herself with the Roman Troglyte. She was getting fidgety and had to ask…

"Are we leaving yet?"

_"No!"_ came the chorused voices of the entire bridge crew at once.

_Fine, see if I ask again._ Prentiss sullenly thought.

"Just keep thinking that." T'Kir called out.

Prentiss started. It was taking some time to get used to being around an invasive telepath. She felt as though she had no privacy whatsoever. Supposedly T'Kir's abilities were now a fraction of what they'd once been. Prentiss was relieved. She was bad enough this way.

Observing the crew, she reviewed some of her observations about them. T'Kir, of course, headed that list. The raven haired, sapphire eyed beauty of a Vulcan would draw attention to herself even if she weren't so…eclectic. Prentiss had discovered though that T'Kir's actions were motivated by a passionate desire for the protection of her loved ones. She was literally an elemental force not unlike the Elements of Romulan legend.

Macen came next. She thought bumping him to the top of the list but to be fair Macen hung in the shadows a bit while his wife attracted all the attention. Once the spotlight was on him it was difficult to take it away. His reddish gold hair and fair features made him appear Scandinavian-born but he'd been born a quadrant away from Earth. The man was electric. She knew El-Aurians possessed metaphysical skills but his perceptions were positively arcane. Combining his talents with his wife's made for a potent combination.

Tom Riker came next. A duplicate of the famous Captain William Riker, Riker had made his home with this lot of rebels. He was every inch as capable as his "brother" he was just seasoned differently. Prentiss had immediately taken a liking to him.

Lisea Danan was the matron of the group. A gifted scientist and natural nurturer, she was the grease that kept everyone smoothly sailing. Prentiss was coming to appreciate the Trill for her insights as well as her unbending moral code.

The ever imposing Rab Daggit had still not forgiven her for separating him from his wife. Only later had she discovered that his Orion wife was his only link to his lost humanity. He seemed a decent sort but she'd been warned not to cross his path during combat. Prentiss was terrified to learn why.

Prentiss looked around and noted that Radil and Kort had exited the bridge. Kort would likely go to the ship's infirmary while Radil was tasked with assisting Dracas during the cruise.

Besides being a doctor, Kort had also proven himself to be an atypical Klingon across the board. He was a man of many passions, of which combat was only one. She'd also learned of his difficulties with alcohol and she felt for him.

Radil, like many Bajorans, was the terrorist made good. Radil had also been a mercenary for a number of years. Despite her earlier flexible loyalties she'd proven herself to be a bedrock of the team and she relished in her friends' reliance upon her.

That left Dracas. A clone of the team's original Engineering Specialist, Dracas had been "born" and raised on the formerly quarantined planet 492 IV or Magna Roma as it was now referred to. Until he had joined the SID his only allegiance had belonged to the Roman Emperor. Prentiss wondered where his ultimate loyalties now lay.

"Engineering, status?" Macen said into the intercom pick-up. He was stroking the beard on his chin.

_As he was wont to do,_ Prentiss had observed.

T'Kir snickered and Prentiss realised that her thoughts had been "overheard" again. She thought of a very special message just for T'Kir and watched as the Vulcan straightened herself out and began paying more attention to her board. Prentiss felt vindicated after that.

After the telepathic incident that occurred at their meeting, Macen had ordered T'Kir to stay out of Prentiss' mind. Prentiss had just reminded T'Kir of that. She was happy to see a mild emerald flush to T'Kir's cheeks as she turned to face Macen.

"The diagnostics done." She reported, "It should only take Joachim a moment or two to compile the results of his tests."

"Hannah, get on the horn with Station Ops." Macen ordered, "Request a departure clearance and an exit vector. File our flight plan to Ekos and Zeon."

"Thank God." Grace said dramatically, "I was going to commit ritual suicide if we had to stay here much longer."

"Button it and get busy." Macen mildly rebuked her.

* * *

The _Loki's _bridge was a small oval. In many ways it was reminiscent of the bridges of the _Defiant_-class. The CONN sat before the viewer. OPS was situated on "the wall" to the left. Engineering sat next to that. To the right of the helm sat the Sensor station. Beside it lay the Tactical station. The design was intentionally small to accommodate more cargo and more weaponry.

Grace, Daggit, and T'Kir sat at their usual stations. Danan manned the Sensor station since it was the closest thing to a Science station aboard. Riker sat at Engineering but he was actually expected to do very little but command the ship. Macen manned the centre seat for now but he would soon be relinquishing it to Riker.

Prentiss sat at the rear of the bridge. Situated there was a small tactical display table with two seats. She occupied one of those seats. Macen handed off control of the ship with Riker and joined Prentiss.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"Are starship operations usually this boring?" Prentiss blurted.

Macen grinned, "Yup. I'M afraid 90% of operating a starship is just plain tedium."

"And the remaining 10%?" Prentiss had to know.

"Pure undiluted terror." Macen casually answered, "Freighters aren't designed to take the stresses you can undergo on a Starfleet mission. Hopefully this crate is up to it."

Prentiss broke into a wan smile, "You really know how to inspire confidence."

"Never fear." Macen's grin was infectious, "We've travelled in worse. After all, my wife is captain of that wreck she calls the _Idiot's Delight_."

"Hey!" T'Kir yelped, "I heard that."

"As you were meant to, m'love." Macen waved at her. T'Kir stuck out her tongue and returned to preparing the ship for departure. Macen chuckled.

"Fates, I love teasing her." He grinned like a naughty school boy.

Prentiss could understand Macen's "cult of personality" now. It would have been better described as a "Macen and T'Kir cult." These two were among the most vivacious people Prentiss had ever met. Their life was an adventure and they joyfully asked you to come along for the ride. What was refreshing was that they didn't pretend to know the end of the story any more than anyone else did.

"No fair brooding." Macen gently teased.

"Just letting my thoughts drift." Prentiss ruefully admitted.

"Reflecting on how we're not what you expected?" Macen enquired.

Prentiss felt a warm flush come to her cheeks, "No, of course not."

Macen's knowing smile belied her lie, "You don't lie very well, Commander."

"Engineering to Bridge" came Dracas' voice over the intercom.

"Bridge, Riker here." Came the reply from the centre seat.

"I've completed my tests and simulations." Dracas reported, "Coupled with the data from the shakedown cruise, I'd say we've enough for a confidence rating."

"You think she's up to it then." Riker asked.

"She's up for anything short of a full scale war." Dracas chuckled, "The SPYards engineers have outdone themselves."

"Are we ready for departure?" Riker enquired.

"Just give the word." Dracas replied.

"The word has been given, Chief. We're setting out." Riker declared.

Riker started issuing orders and the crew instantly responded. Prentiss looked askance at Macen, "Shouldn't you be doing this?"

"What?" Macen asked, "And spoil all of Tom's fun? He lives for this stuff. More power to him I say."

Prentiss stared at him, "You're not your typical Starfleet captain."

Macen sighed, "How many times do I have to explain that I'm not in Starfleet anymore?"

Prentiss' mouth worked but no sound came out. Finally, her lips curved into an embarrassed smile, "Sorry. You don't realise how hard it is for me not to call you Commander. You did hold that rank for forty years within an eighty years Starfleet career. Your service record was quite impressive until the end."

"And the end is all anyone remembers." Macen remarked.

"Your record with the SID is impressive if somewhat tainted by rumours of illegality." Prentiss noted.

"Ah, the beginnings of another witch hunt." Macen smiled, "My team has always been cleared of every allegation and we will again."

Macen sensed that Prentiss was uncertain but she pressed on anyway, "I've reviewed and re-reviewed your incident reports. I've accepted that things proceeded as they had to. However, that doesn't mean I'll tolerate any malfeasance on this mission."

"What you'll see is us operating as we always do." Macen promised, "You can base your subsequent actions on that."

Prentiss was plainly relieved, "As long as we have an understanding."

"Trust me Commander," Macen grinned, "I haven't the time or energy to attempt a cover up. I want the truth to be as firmly established as you do."

Prentiss stuck out her hand, "Is that a deal?"

Macen shook her hand, "It's a promise."

"So what happens now?" Prentiss asked.

The vibration of the deckplates shifted and the stars on the viewer began to streak. Macen looked at Prentiss, "Joachim is free now. You could try talking to him."

"There's no need." Prentiss shook her head, "I fully accept that he was not a member of your crew when he assaulted Mr. Harkins and that you never fully intended for him to assault Mr. Zeist. However, as a member of your SID team, he is culpable under Federation law."

"Then would you be kind enough to tutor him in the basics of that law?" Macen asked.

"I…I suppose I could." Prentiss realised.

"C'mon, let's go to Engineering." Macen rose and beckoned for Prentiss to follow, "Joachim rarely bites and he's a dedicated student."

Prentiss was still hesitant but she decided to brave it out, "All right. Lead on, Captain."

Macen's smile became encouraging, "That's the spirit."

Macen and Prentiss had already left when Riker announced, "All right people, you're free to move about."

Everyone but Grace vacated their seat. Riker came up behind her and rested his hand on the back of her seat, "It's okay Hannah. I'll take the first watch."

The _Loki_ retained a high degree of automation. It was a vestige of her origins as a humble freighter. Freight lines couldn't afford large, specialised crews so they made up for it with quad redundant systems. The _Loki_ could effectively pilot herself to and from the Ekos system. She just couldn't make port, transfer cargo, or fully utilise her weapons systems by herself.

During transits the ship only required one officer of the watch. The rest of thee crew was free to do as they pleased. They were just permanently on call if an emergency should arise. Right now, the various officers were milling about freely chatting and grabbing refreshments.

T'Kir grabbed Grace's arm, "C'mon. Let's check out the ship's rec room."

Grace half followed and half stumbled as she was dragged off the bridge. The remaining crew chuckled at the sight. T'Kir's manic babblings could be heard all the way down the corridor.

"Maybe I shouldn't have relieved Hannah after all." Riker murmured.

Daggit's smile grew wider and Danan looked about ready to laugh. After the moment passed, Riker took a seat at the helm. Danan approached Daggit, who was preparing to leave.

"Comming Parva?" Danan asked.

Daggit shook his head, "Not just yet. She's still at work. Besides, Joachim came to me and said we needed to talk. He looked distressed."

Danan smiled, "I'd noticed that he seemed unhappy when he returned. I was about to suggest that you meet with him. Of all of us, he's bonded more with you than anyone." Danan took a moment to reflect on that statement, "I should say any of us except Brin."

"He does seem to worship at the Captain's feet." Daggit opined.

"He has his orders and by God he's going to obey them." Danan said in a deep, strident voice, "Alaric told Joachim to obey Brin and that's what he's going to do. The fact that Emperors and great leaders are seen as semi divine on Magna Roma doesn't sway him at all."

"Of course not." Daggit dryly commented.

"Macen to bridge." Sounded the intercom.

"Bridge here." Riker replied, "How can we help, Captain?"

"If you can catch Rab before he leaves the bridge," Macen instructed, "send him to Joachim's quarters."

"Will do. Bridge out." Riker swivelled his seat around, "You heard the man, scoot!"

Daggit bowed low from the waist and happily trudged off. Danan sauntered up to Riker and graced him with a playful smile. Riker was pleased but immediately suspicious.

"You're up to something." He grinned.

"Me?" she batted her eyes innocently.

"Why do I get the impression the next few minutes are going to prove life altering?" Riker grinned.

"Because I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and we need to discuss some decisions I've come to." Danan disclosed.

Riker's expression darkened, "Oh boy."

Danan frowned, "What do you mean, 'Oh boy'?"

"Every time we have one of these talks it's about you wanting to put on the breaks and slow down." Riker grimaced, "I hate to tell you but we're already at a crawl."

"Not this time." Danan suddenly said.

Riker's eyes widened, "What did you…"

"I said, 'Not this time'." Danan wore a mischievous grin, "And if you keep interrupting me this could go all day."

"Well hurry up then." Riker was intrigued, "I've got to hear this."

"I came to a few realisations the night we waited up with Rab during Parva's surgery. You were concerned about Shannon, and you should be, but I became jealous." Danan revealed, "Jealousy can be a bad thing if taken too far but this was a nice healthy pang of 'he's not paying attention to me'. Since you're someone I keep insisting I'm not involved with, that reaction shouldn't occur."

Danan sat down at the Sensor station, "It got me thinking and what I realised is that we _are _involved, no matter what I say about it, and I like that fact."

Riker stared at her in open mouthed shock, "So you're saying…"

"I want to be a couple." Danan smiled sweetly, "I want to keep on doing what we've been doing but I want to be open to the possibility of something permanent coming out of this."

Riker was still as stone for several seconds and then he said, "Wow."

This irritated Danan, "I bare my soul and all you can say is 'Wow'?"

"I can't say I haven't tried to persuade you to go this route before." Riker was still flabbergasted, "But I didn't expect this…especially not during this mission."

"What do you think about what I said?" Danan prodded.

"Like I said, it's what I've wanted but…" Riker began.

"Why is there a 'but'?" Danan wanted to know.

"I haven't always enjoyed how slowly we've moved but it has helped me get over Jamie's death." Riker alluded to his slain fiancé, "That was your idea and it was a good one. Now I'm doing what I want when I want to and I know why I'm doing it."

"So what do you want to do about 'us'?" Danan asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Riker wore a wry grin and he dryly remarked, "If you haven't noticed, there isn't anyone else I want to be involved with, Lees. I spend most of my free time with you already. I don't have to do that. I do it because I want to."

"Same here." Danan agreed.

"So let's finally admit to ourselves and the galaxy at large that we're a couple and be done with it." Riker insisted.

Danan came out of her seat, wrapped her arms around Riker's neck and gave him a passionate kiss. When she finished, she said, "I love you!" and sprinted off the bridge.

Riker absorbed all of this in stunned silence and then he grinned, "I could learn to like this."

He returned his attention to the navigational sensors and settled in to endure the next six hours.


	13. Chapter 13

Sindis gazed at Ryst from across the top of a wineglass, "I do believe that concludes our most pressing business."

Ryst switched her padd off, "I agree. I have to confess that I expected you to be much more reticent. You readily agreed to most of our terms."

"Or at least those that you mentioned." Sindis swirled his spring wine around in his glass, "I do believe that B'nner gave you a much more exhaustive list."

Ryst's eyes narrowed, "And what would make you say that?"

Sindis took a sip of his wine and savoured it for a moment before replying, "I have my sources. It pays to be well informed about competitors…or well intentioned potential allies."

"If you already knew what I had to offer why did we play out this charade?" Ryst grated.

"It was a test of character, dear Annika." Sindis calmly replied, "You held most closely to those items which would affect the Syndicate's long term interests. I was curious as to what those interests were and how strongly you would defend them. You _are _a mercenary after all."

Ryst was angry but she couldn't quite define why. Sindis had done exactly what she would in his place. _Perhaps that's the problem, _she thought, _He's a little too familiar for comfort._

Ryst had once been betrothed. Both her and her fiancé were selected for the augmentation process during the Tarsus Wars. They had happily served together for five years when he, Tannin, had been killed by an enemy sniper. Driven by her conditioning, she'd abandoned his body with nary a tear. After the battle had concluded, she'd gone back but the corpse had already been collected. She had been denied permission to attend the funeral and had subsequently lived with a vague wound in her heart ever since.

Sindis reminded Ryst of Tannin in many ways. It was an experience that was both rewarding and terrifying all at once. It was gratifying to see her old ghost in the flesh once again but she dreaded the emotional baggage that came along with that apparition. She'd let her guard down with Sindis during the negotiations because of these associations and she violently swore that such behaviour would not continue.

"You fallen into a sullen silence." Sindis observed, "Perhaps it is because I remind you of your long lost betrothed?"

Ryst went cold, "What did you say?"

"I have done my research quite thoroughly." Sindis wore a thin smile, "Tannin and I shared many qualities. It was in the advent of his death that you truly dedicated yourself to the arts of war. You have become a magnificent pupil, I might add. You are everything I could have imagined."

"So what kind of twisted fantasy are you planning on living out?" Ryst scornfully asked.

Sindis shook his head and clucked his tongue, "Shame on you Annika Ryst. I have no overtures to expend or desires for you. You are far too rosy coloured for my tastes. I am a simple admirer. We will work well together. Your enemies are now my enemies and they shall never realise what it is that has killed them."

"I want them to realise it." Ryst insisted, "I want them to feel despair overwhelm them as they are slowly, inexorably drawn into their deaths."

A cold, cruel smile played across Sindis' features, "Your every wish is my command."

* * *

The door to Dracas' cabin was open so Daggit poked his head in, "Joachim, are you in here?"

"Coming." Dracas called out and then emerged from the san, "You're here!"

"I didn't have much choice." Daggit replied dryly, "The Captain says you won't sit down with our resident IA officer until you speak with me."

"I'm sorry." Dracas said miserably, "I truly am but if I do not discuss matters with someone soon I will go mad."

"Are you certain you don't want to talk to Lisea?" Daggit asked, "She sort of has experience with things like this."

"No." Dracas adamantly shook his head, "It is a soldier's problem. I need to discuss it with another soldier."

"All right," Daggit conceded, "but can we move down to the Mess? I don't think anyone's there and I need to grab something to eat."

"Wherever is best for you is best for me." Dracas assured him.

Daggit beckoned for Dracas to follow, "Grab whatever you need and come on."

"Thank you for this." Dracas said as he shut up his cabin.

"Don't thank me until I find out if I can help." Daggit advised.

"You will." Dracas assured him, "Your life is a result of the answer I seek. I just need to know how you derived at that answer and what it is."

"So nothing important then?" Daggit sarcastically quipped.

"Exactly." Dracas cheered up.

_We should've called Lees._ Daggit gloomily thought as he proceeded to the Mess.

* * *

"Oi!" T'Kir called out as she bounded into the engine room, "Guess what happened to Tom and Lees!"

"They decided to have Elvis' love child?" Macen retorted.

Radil and Prentiss both said, "Huh?"

Grace caught up with T'Kir, "Don't spoil it. Let Lisea tell him."

T'Kir was not about to be dissuaded, "They've tied the knot!"

"_What_?" a stunned Macen asked, "I'm the Captain and I haven't married anybody."

"They could've done it over subspace radio." Radil piped up.

"They aren't married." Grace settled everyone's confusion, "They've just finally settled the fact that they're a couple. A rather serious one at that."

"Well, it's about time." Macen grinned.

T'Kir tucked herself under Macen's arm, "Another wedding. It's getting to be an epidemic."

"Who said anything about a wedding?" Danan asked as she entered the area.

"T'Kir's prognosticating your and Tom's future." Macen explained.

"Could be." Danan commented, "Now that I've taken the blinders off, I've discovered that that would be awfully nice."

T'Kir poked Macen in the stomach, "Told ya."

"So you did." Macen allowed, "I bow before your infinite wisdom and insight."

"As well you should." T'Kir haughtily remarked.

"I'm leaving before her ego expands to the point that it collapses and creates a stellar quantum singularity." Danan laughed and departed.

"Tom's manning the bridge. You're relieving Jenrya in eight hours and we've nothing to do until then." Macen told T'Kir, "Does that about sum it up?"

"Not quite." T'Kir wore an impish smile, "You've gotta check out the rec room."

T'Kir began to drag Macen out of Engineering. Grace, who was tagging along, merely shrugged and advised Macen, "Might as well go with it. She's merciless."

Macen switched tactics and instead began to chase T'Kir down the corridor. Squeals of delight echoed throughout the ship.

* * *

Daggit and Dracas sat in the ship's Mess drinking various forms of coffee and eating sandwiches. Dracas had haltingly confessed all of his recent actions and concerns to Daggit. Daggit was now taking a moment to reflect on what had been revealed. Outside they heard footfalls and a running shriek pass by.

Daggit smiled, "Seems the Captain and T'Kir have found a way to amuse themselves."

Next T'Kir's soprano rang out, "Try and find me!" A hatch cycled and she was gone. A moment later the hatch cycled again.

"And now they're into the cargo holds." Daggit's smile widened, "I'll have to mention hide and seek as a game the next time Parva gets bored."

"This…_this_ is what I'm talking about!" Dracas was growing frantic, "How can you hold on to loved ones whilst facing the spectre of death every day?"

"It gives me a reason to continue." Daggit replied, "I'm actually a better soldier because I have something tangible to fight for. You should try it."

"I'm afraid." Dracas whispered.

Daggit nodded, "That's natural and nothing to be ashamed of. This is something completely new to you and outside of your knowledge sphere. What _would_ be shameful would be to succumb to these doubts and fears. You're made of sterner stuff than that Joachim Dracas. You carry a proud name. Live up to it."

"But how?" Dracas plaintively wondered.

"You enjoy the company of this Guthrie, correct?" Daggit asked. Dracas nodded and Daggit smiled, "Then comm him. Make another date. Spend time with him when you can. Who knows what will happen?"

"And Kiv?" Dracas asked.

"Kiv Rever has to make his own choice." Daggit declared, "If he truly loves you like a son, he'll contact you and he will find a way for you two to carry on your relationship."

"What kind of way?" Dracas innocently asked.

"I suggest a compromise." Daggit said, "You refrain from pulling weapons in his flat and he'll not chastise you for carrying them. That would be a start."

Dracas pondered that idea for a moment and then finally nodded, "That could work."

Daggit nodded, "At least it's a start."

"You truly feel I should pursue an active relationship with Stan Guthrie?" Dracas sought reassurance.

"I not only think so, I'm going to order you to do it." Daggit said.

"I don't know if…" Dracas squirmed.

Daggit chuckled, "I was like you, you know. I was so afraid of my past and what I was that I feared for Parva if I was to date her. All of my arguments and fears were stripped away by her. You know who helped me see reason? Hal Dracas. He showed me how I was hurting myself by denying her. I owe him a lot."

Daggit's eyes bored into Dracas', "Out of respect for that man's wisdom I'm going to tell you again: comm Guthrie, ask him out. Go on a date and have fun. It worked for you once already. Try it again."

Dracas leaned back in his chair while gripping the table, "All right. I see your point."

"But will you act on it?"Daggit asked.

Dracas rose and started for the door, "By all the gods, I think I shall."

Dracas went out the open door and Daggit raised his glass in salute, "More power to you, Joachim."

"What's all that about?" Grace asked from the empty doorway, "Joachim nearly ran me over."

"I am sure you could've defended yourself." Daggit grinned

"Mind if I join you?" Grace asked.

"Not at all." Daggit replied, "Grab something to eat and drink and come on over?"

"You want a fresh cup?" Grace asked.

"I'd love one." Daggit nodded, "Make this one a _raktajino_, please."

"Your wish, as ever, is my command." Grace curtsied and went to the replicator.

Daggit watched her mused over the days when Grace had pined away for him. He was glad that their friendship had survived both angst and disappointment. In many ways Grace was a female version of himself. She was physically superior to most of the crew and she possessed a killer's instinct.

Grace had an instinctive drive to angle the ship so that her phaser arrays were presented towards the enemy at all times. This made Daggit's job at Tactical that much easier. They'd never discussed or coordinated their efforts it was just seamless teamwork.

Grace's bright enthusiasm often propelled the team forward but today was an exception and Daggit said as much. Grace offered him a wan smile and replied, "I've just been thinking."

"About Ian Delaney." Daggit realised.

"Among other things." Grace admitted, "I had a conversation a few days ago with the Captain that's gotten me thinking about my place in the universe."

"I'd have thought that it was here." Daggit opined.

"It is." Grace wistfully replied, "And it isn't. There's a whole realm of human experiences I'd like to try out. I'd like to have a committed relationship and maybe have children. I don't know. The thought of children terrifies me and exhilarates me all at the same time."

"And all of these thoughts revolve around the fact that you don't know if Ian Delaney is the one to help you accomplish them." Daggit surmised.

"Exactly!" Grace finally grew animated, "Ian's wonderful and I love being around him but I don't know if he's ready for me, all of me."

"Only one way to find out." Daggit sipped his drink, "Reveal yourself and see if he can handle the whole, unadulterated truth. It's better to find out now while the relationship is just starting to season than to spring it on him later, after you're committed, and have him walk out."

"But it's…" Grace began to whine.

"Daunting?" Daggit interrupted, "Yes, it is. It's supposed to be. That's how you know it's worth it."

"You're right." Grace forcefully declared. She rose and started for the door, "I think I'll comm him right now."

Daggit sat in the silenced Mess for a while. He looked around and a big, self satisfied grin crept across his features.

"Damn, I'm good." He chuckled softly.

"Rab!" Danan breathlessly said in delight, "There you are! Do I have news for you!"

* * *

T'Kir and Grace took over Engineering and the CONN respectively. They spent the bulk of their watch talking to one another via the intercom. Macen had shut himself inside the Captain's Office. He wasn't to be seen again until the next shift change. Dracas and Daggit stood the next watch. It all began again when Riker and Radil resumed their initial positions.

Kort and Danan were immune to the changes. Kort was on permanent stand by and basically did as he pleased while he waited for an emergency to arise. Danan took periodic sensor readings but since they were currently flying through the Federation's heavily patrolled Home Sectors, there really wasn't much to do.

The designated Home Sectors were at the very heart of the Federation and were comprised of the very oldest members. At one time the appellation "Core Sectors" was used but that swiftly confused the heartland with those systems lying closer to the galactic core. Since its inception the term "Home Sectors" had proven popular with starfaring vessels and cartographers alike.

The Federation was now unofficially divided into several pieces. There were the Home Sectors, the Beta Sectors which bordered the Beta Quadrant, the Rim Sectors which reached out into the vastness beyond the galactic rim, and the Border Sectors. The Border Sectors paralleled the borders with the Tzenkethi, The Cardassian Union, Talarian space, the Ferengi Alliance, and the Breen Cluster. All of these designators were unofficial and it was popular sport amongst inhabitants within these regions to debate upon which group they belonged to. It was all good natured fun despite the ongoing participation of the Tellarites.

What all of this meant was a lot of boredom for the team. They were living the life of a freighter crew and it was understandably sedate. Outbound Ventures itself worked hard to make certain that it was a peaceful existence. Used to the rigours and tension of the typical SID contract, the group was getting understandably complacent. Macen ended all of that on the second day.

"Battle stations! Battle stations!" Macen's voice rang out throughout the entire ship, "All hands to their stations!"

Dracas joined Radil in Engineering while T'Kir, Grace, and Daggit sprinted for the bridge. Riker had the helm while Danan was buried in her sensor hood. Macen calmly watched the scene from the centre seat. On the viewer a Breen cruiser was bearing down on them.

"How the hell did a Breen ship get so far into the Home Sectors?" Grace asked as she relieved Riker.

"That's just what Earth said after their attack seven years ago." Riker retorted.

"Aspect change." Danan reported, "Hostile One has adjusted his vector. We're now on a collision course."

"Hannah, adjust our course by five degrees." Macen ordered, "At this distance it should put us kilometres away from them."

"Aspect change." Danan reported after Grace complied, "They've matched our course adjustment and have increased speed for a least time intercept."

"Rab, raise our defensive shields." Macen ordered, "Power up the weapons arrays."

The _Loki_, like all starships, had both navigational and defensive shielding. Stock freighters only came with navigational shielding so this move would prove enlightening to the Breen. Their countermeasure would prove enlightening to the crew of the _Loki_.

"They're powering their weapons array." Danan reported, "_And _they're accelerating."

"Lock all phasers on target." Macen ordered.

Daggit went to work. Rather than carry banded phaser emitters, the _Loki_ sported the same type of phaser banks as the _Solstice_. Although a proven technology, it was abandoned by Starfleet in the mid-24th century. Their presence on the Q-ship would only reinforce her status as a privately held vessel.

All of a sudden the image of the Breen ship froze and everyone's instrument readings locked up. The screen shifted to an empty starfield with the words SORRY, YOU'VE BEEN DESTROYED prominently displayed. Macen tapped a control on his armrest and everyone regained control of their stations and the message evaporated.

All eyes but Riker's were on him. Macen grinned, "The computer thinks that the Breen was going to destroy us. I'm not in the mood to argue. What I am in the mood for is a little brainstorming. What could we have done differently?"

"We could'a ignored them and seen if they'd pass us by." T'Kir offered.

"Since they kept plotting a collision course, I doubt that would have worked." Macen replied.

There was a moment's silence and then the room erupted with ideas. Macen, with Riker's assistance, happily fielded them all.

* * *

Ryst returned to her guest suite. Sindis had gone out of his way to make her feel welcome. He'd even allowed her to participate in his morning exercise regime. Having tested firearms and hand to hand simulations with him she was suddenly very happy that he was on her side. For the first time since leaving the company of her fellow Angosians, she felt as though she were amongst equals.

The nagging doubt that was Brin Macen and T'Kir in her mind came screaming to the surface. With an almost physical effort she quelled these fears. She was at the top of her game. She'd just proven it. Still, her confidence had been eroded and she didn't know if it would ever shore itself up.

_Kill them and life will be fine_. A part of her mind railed. Another, calmer voice acknowledged that if the El-Aurian could best her then perhaps another non-enhanced sentient could as well. After all, Macen was considered to be the weakest link of his action team's combat capabilities. What did that bode for her?

Casting all of her damnable doubts aside, she showered and changed. Afterwards, seeing that she had a free moment, she commed Robhurt B'nner. Knowing that her conversation was being monitored, she kept things short and sweet.

Ryst filled the gnarled old Orion in on the concession she had made. B'nner mulled them over, "He's after something. Something larger than he's let on."

"That much is obvious." Ryst agreed, "His goals are immense. I suspect that he wants to capitalise on his criminal empire and transform it into a political empire as well."

"Let him try." B'nner cackled, "The Orion Syndicate will never bow before him."

"The proud will be humbled someday." Ryst quoted a native axiom.

"Has he started with you?" B'nner wondered.

"Perhaps." Ryst allowed, "I'm certainly more cautious in my dealings with Sindis than I thought I'd have to be. He's a canny one. Those cobalt eyes of his seem to see through you."

"Buck up dear girl." B'nner cajoled, "I sent them my most fearsome enforcer for a reason. Live up to the job."

Ryst bowed her head, "He won't slip past me."

"Excellent." B'nner chuckled darkly, "Carry on, Annika. Make me proud."

"I will." Ryst promised, "The Syndicate has nothing to fear."

"Excellent." B'nner's toothy grin disappeared as the screen went dark. Ryst stared at it for a moment then shrugged and went out to find Sindis.

* * *

Seated at his desk in his study, Sindis watched Ryst's transmission terminate. B'nner had been his usual overconfident, boorish self. Ryst was what intrigued him. She had doubts within her. They were gnawing at her even now. He wondered what it was that Brin Macen had done to cow such a creature.

More importantly, she had deduced the nature of his ambitions. He wondered how he'd given it away. After a moment's retrospection, he deduced that she was just so akin to his nature that she had sensed it. That could be good for her…or very tragic. He'd had others, far closer to him, put to death for less.

_We shall wait and see where Annika Ryst's loyalties _truly _lie when this is over._ Sindis thought to himself and then exited his study in order to find her.


	14. Chapter 14

The _Loki _dropped out of warp. It was the fourth day of her journey and it represented the last leg of the trip. The Q-ship had entered the outer edge of the Zynar system and was proceeding towards Ekos and Zeon.

The binary planets shared more than a common orbital track. They shared a common language and culture. Theorists had speculated that the two sibling civilisations had once been united. It had taken a disaster of some sort to reduce them to technological barbarism and sunder the two planets.

Zeon's fledgling efforts to reunite with Ekos had initially been met with hostility and fear. The Nazi movement had capitalised on these fears and propelled itself to power. The Ekosians had had a hard time explaining away the similar dialects of the same tongue shared by the two planets. Even Zynar was a common word meaning "sun".

Over the last century, the Nazis had learned to share power and compete in planetwide and local elections. Their racial elitism had ended and they were now the party for progressive cooperation. The Nazis had even become popular on Zeon despite it once being the object of their misguided hate.

All of these facts had been in the reports of the last cultural observer. He'd left the planets ten years ago. No contact had been made since. All that was known was that a squad of Miradorn raiders operated in this region of space. They did not discriminate between targets and all passing shipping was vulnerable.

Macen was on the bridge. It was T'Kir and Grace's watch. T'Kir had abandoned the automated routine of the engine room. This was permissible since the computer would alert her to any problem requiring her attention. She manned OPS and monitored the engineering reports from there. She also ran sensor sweeps of nearby space.

"Whoa!" T'Kir remarked, "We've got three Miradorn raiders coming in fast. Triangular formation. Approaching at .75_c_ and vectored for an intercept."

"All right Hannah," Macen calmly said, "make us look like a panicked freighter."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Grace murmured and began throwing in erratic and ineffective evasive manoeuvres.

Macen toggled the intercom, "All hands to your stations. Repeat, all hands to your stations. This is not a drill."

This last was an incentive to the crew. Macen had run continuous drills over the course of their journey. A few members of the team were becoming resentful. Frankly, Macen didn't care. The simulations had been very creative and a lot of fun in his opinion.

Daggit bounded onto the bridge. Dracas and Radil checked in from the engine room over the intercom. Lastly, Riker and Danan arrived.

Macen grinned, "A little late aren't we?"

Riker shrugged, "Maybe."

"Care to confess about anything?" Macen's grin turned wicked.

"I never kiss and tell." Riker said primly and took his post at the Engineering console.

"They're cutting impulse engines and firing braking thrusters." Danan reported, "The centre ship is reversing engines and dropping into the rear."

"They mean to form a wedge around us." Macen opined. Riker nodded his agreement.

"They're hailing." T'Kir sounded off.

"Ignore it." Macen said, "Rab, stand by on shields and weapons. Have them ready to go at a moment's notice. I want that centre ship bracketed by a torpedo strike and I want full phaser broadsides on its partners."

"These boobs are running with their shields down." Danan commented.

"They're facing a helpless freighter not a starship." Macen reminded her, "How are we doing Hannah?"

"Still panicking." Grace happily replied.

"They're calling again." T'Kir advised, "And they sound pissed."

"Accept the hail, audio only." Macen ordered.

"This is Captain Macen of the free trader, _Loki_, who am I addressing?" Macen asked.

"I'm Dirge." Came the gruff reply, "Come to a halt and we won't open fire."

"We're running empty." Macen lied.

"You have shielded cargo bays." Dirge said, savouring the moment, "No one has shielded cargo bays unless they have valuables to hide."

The truth was that the holds were filled with crate after crate of pulse rifles. Each had been gimmicked to fire two or three shots and then the prefire chamber would melt down, causing a feedback loop which would fuse the power cell. Prentiss had been apprehensive upon learning of the nature of their cargo until the ruse had been explained to her.

"Our holds are empty." Macen continued, "You can beam over and see for yourself."

"Oh, we shall." Dirge said with the utmost confidence, "Believe me, we shall."

"Looking forward to it. _Loki _out." Macen signed off.

Rubbing his hands, he addressed the crew, "Now we know they won't raise their shields."

At the rear of the bridge, Prentiss sat watching events unfold. So far the mission had transpired like a typical undercover operation. She wondered if things were about to change.

"Full stop." Macen instructed Grace, "Let's cower for awhile."

"Cowering, aye." Grace acknowledged perkily.

_If we die, at least we'll die happy._ Macen thought upon hearing her cheerfulness.

"They're coming alongside our port and starboard guns." Daggit reported, "They still have shields down and all our weapons are locked on."

"Raise shields and power weapons arrays." Macen ordered, "Fire at will."

Daggit tapped controls and on the viewscreen, two torpedoes flared to life and collided with the central raider. Daggit cycled the phaser banks several times and then asked, "Do we want prisoners?"

"If we must, we must." Macen commented, "I want them crippled but not venting atmosphere. They need to be cowered but still able to talk."

"Acknowledged." Daggit briskly replied.

Prentiss approached Macen, "What you said…"

"About if we must take prisoners?" Macen asked and she nodded, "If I feel or discover that they are a continuing threat, any of them, I will destroy their vessels in order to preserve this one. Am I clear?"

Prentiss nodded and returned to her place. Sensing that she was mollified for the moment, he turned to Danan.

"Okay, Lees, crank up the power to the sensors and let's see what's going on in this system and beyond." Macen ordered.

Danan happily obliged. Staring into the sensor hood, she began to report her findings, "There are three more Miradorn ships in this system. They all appear to be under attack from impulse driven fighter craft."

"The natives were supposed to have impulse driven craft in their repertoire." Macen revealed, "Maybe these fighters are theirs?"

"They're certainly nothing I've seen before." Danan observed, "One of the raiders appears to be badly damaged. The fighters are clustering around it and largely ignoring the other two Miradorn ships. Wait…the viable raiders are leaving the system at high warp. The crippled raider is now being approached by a small freighter. Looks like an ore carrier. They're hard docking to the raider."

"Boarding party." Macen surmised, "I'd hate to be aboard that ship right now."

"I'm getting multiple hails." T'Kir announced, "The captains of our three 'friends' out there want to discuss terms of surrender."

"Put them on a split screen visual." Macen requested.

None of the faces that appeared were born on Miradorn. One was a female Denobulan with wild eyes and unkempt hair. Another was a male Bajoran with a vicious scar running down the left side of his face. The third was a defiant looking Andorian who was missing half of one antenna.

"Which of you is Dirge?" Macen's latinum was on the Andorian.

"I am Dirge." The Andorian admitted.

"What is your full name?" Macen asked.

"I am known as Dirge." The Andorian hissed, "That is all you need to know."

Macen knew then that the Andorian had been formally stripped of his name. That was the most severe punishment in that culture. It was considered more heinous than execution. It was a living death.

"Very well Dirge," Macen allowed, "You wanted to talk, so talk."

"Why are we still alive?" Dirge enquired, "What do you want from us?"

"I want information." Macen answered, "Where did your two comrades bug out to?"

"Go _frinx_ yourself." Dirge snarled.

Macen motioned for the transmission to be terminated. Activating the intercom, he signalled the engine room, "Radil, man the transporter. Stand by to receive coordinates."

Moving to Danan's side, he asked, "Can you get a fix on an Andorian lifesign?"

"Easily." She laughed, "But what if there's more than one?"

"It'll be the one on the bridge." Macen replied, "Other Andorians won't serve under Dirge. He's part of the nameless caste. He does not exist to other Andorians."

"Ah." Danan remarked. Peering into her sensor hood she smiled, "I think we have a candidate in the central raider."

"Transfer the coordinates to the transporter." Toggling the intercom control, he spoke to Radil, "You should have the coordinates. Watch out, our guest will be armed and cranky."

Radil chuckled humourlessly, "I know the feeling."

"Brin," Danan sounded concerned, "we have several native fighters headed this way."

"ETA?" Macen asked.

"Ten minutes." Danan replied.

Macen smiled, "Plenty of time to question Dirge."

"Radil to bridge," the intercom sounded, "I have the prisoner secured. Where do you want him?"

"Bring him to the bridge." Macen answered and then cut the connection.

Macen moved over to T'Kir, "Ready?"

"As ever." T'Kir bounced out of her seat.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'." Macen grinned.

"You betcha." T'Kir said.

Dirge came stumbling into the bridge. His hands were bound behind him and blood trickled out of his nose. Prentiss saw this and rose out of her seat.

"What's the meaning of this?" she demanded.

"He resisted." Radil shrugged and handed Prentiss a disruptor pistol and a serrated knife, "He tried to make his point with those."

Prentiss stared at the weapons and then meekly sat down. Radil took Dirge to the seat opposite of Prentiss'. She shoved him into the seat and he defiantly stared at the bridge crew.

"I'll tell you nothing!" he proudly declared.

"Yes, you will." T'Kir said, wearing an evil grin, "And I won't even cut off your other antenna."

"Drugs won't work." Dirge warned, "Besides, they're illegal. Starfleet can't use them."

"Point in fact," Macen replied, "we're not Starfleet. We're privateers that work for Outbound Ventures, Inc."

Dirge looked distinctly nervous, "I've heard of you. You're guns for hire. Especially the one they call…" Dirge's eyes went wide, "You're him! What are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm here because you're here." Macen revealed, "My employers want to clear this sector of pirates. That means you have to go away."

"We'll leave!" Dirge promised.

Macen shook his head, "Not good enough. I think the locals want to have a word with you. They're on their way."

"The neo-barbs? On their way here?" Dirge laughed. It was a vicious sound.

"I doubt that they're barbarians." Macen replied, "Now, on to business. Will you answer my question?"

"I've sworn an oath." Dirge, "That means something even to one such as I."

"As much as I hate to abuse your honour," Macen shrugged, "I need that data."

Macen turned to T'Kir, "He's all yours."

T'Kir let loose of a gleeful giggle as she rounded on Dirge, "Don't think about the whereabouts of your base."

She frowned, "Been tricked like that before, eh? Well, there's other ways `round that."

Her brow furrowed and Dirge's head lurched back. Prentiss watched in transfixed horror. Dirge's eyes went wide and he screamed.

"Stop this!" Prentiss shouted.

"This isn't torture." Macen firmly declared, "He's confronting his personal demons while T'Kir searches his memories. If he's distracted it's painless. This is helping him."

Dirge whimpered and Prentiss shuddered, "_This_ is helping?"

"If he wanted an easier time of it then he should have lived a more virtuous life." Macen retorted.

Dirge's head slumped forward and his body went slack. T'Kir turned to face Macen, "Got it."

"Is he all right?" Prentiss asked.

T'Kir patted Dirge's head, "He's just fainted. Our boy here has been awfully naughty. It took a lot outta him to relive those moments."

"Brin," Danan interrupted, "the locals are here."

"Are they hailing?" Macen wondered.

Daggit shook his head and Danan began reviewing her scanners, "I'm detecting a modulated EM transmission. On the radio bandwidth. I'm converting the transmission into something the computer recognises."

"Got it." Daggit announced, "They have a visual feed. Do you want it displayed?"

"Of course." Macen stood behind his seat, "Let's be friendly."

"Should I keep the weapons hot?" Daggit asked dryly.

"Yeah, let's not be _too_ friendly." Macen conceded.

"On screen…now." Daggit said and the scene on the viewer shifted. Going from wrecked raiders and smaller fighter craft it changed to the head and upper torso of an Ekosian. She wore a grey and black uniform. Her helmet bore the iron cross.

"Unknown vessel, identify yourself." Came an angry voice, "I repeat, identify yourself or we shall open fire."

"Attention," Macen spoke and he could see from the female pilot's response she was receiving the _Loki's _signal, "I'm Captain Brin Macen of the Outbound Ventures' freighter _Loki_. We were surrounded by these pirates. They meant to board us."

"Yet they are crippled and you are not." She remarked dryly, "How fortunate for you."

"We defended ourselves." Macen allowed, "We mean you no harm. In fact we're here to help."

The officer's eyes narrowed, "Why would you wish to help us?"

"We represent elements of the United Federation of Planets." Macen revealed, "We have no interest in seeing your planets ravaged by outsiders. Furthermore, we'd like to extend our hands in friendship. How can we assist you?"

"Can you give us weapons?" the officer asked.

"I can give you what we can spare." Macen promised.

The officer nodded, "Very well. I am Flight Commander Jorra Kend. I will escort you to our base on Ekos. I assume you cannot land on the surface but I am also assuming you have one of those 'transporters'."

"You'd be correct on both counts." Macen confirmed.

"Additional units will be here shortly to collect the prisoners. They will take charge of these ships." Kend warned.

"Understood." Macen nodded, "I have a prisoner aboard as well. Do you want me to return him to his ship?"

Kend thought about it for a moment and then nodded, "I think that would be best."

"We'll await your signal to move out and then follow you." Macen said, "Macen out."

The screen went dark before Kend could reply. Turning to Daggit and Radil, he spoke, "Take Dirge back to the transporter and beam him back to the bridge of his ship."

"Why the bridge?" Radil wanted to know.

"Consider him an object lesson." Macen replied. Moving behind T'Kir, he said in a soft voice, "Open communications with the three raiders again."

"Tom, man Tactical." Macen ordered as the screen reverted back to its three way view of the pirate commanders, "Attention, we're returning Captain Dirge to you. You'll see he's a little worse off then he was. That's the price of resistance. Local cutters are on their way to apprehend you."

"If we find you've resisted, we will return and destroy you." Riker locked the phasers and the torpedo launcher on target. A predatory smile spread itself across Macen's face, "I trust you all want to stay alive. Cooperate and it'll happen."

Macen nodded at T'Kir and she cut the channel. Grinning, she said, "I think that got their attention."

"Wiping out three of their ships without even trying, _that _got their attention." Riker opined.

Prentiss quietly approached, "You're not seriously thinking of giving them weapons are you? After all, the Prime Directive…"

"Doesn't apply here." Macen finished for her, "This culture has been tampered with by starfaring races for a hundred years now. The Federation was here first but the Ferengi arrived five years ago. They sold the Ekosians and the Zeons their first warp drive. The natives were happily toolying around local space when the raiders appeared. The native ship was destroyed by these pirates and the Ferengi vacated this area and have stayed out ever since."

"What did the Ferengi want with this system?" Prentiss wondered, "And how did you find out about all of this?"

"I received my information from a credible source." Macen answered and T'Kir let out a whoop of laughter.

"Quark made him promise to get rid of the pirates." She said with glee, "Turns out the little troll has an investment in the firm that first exploited the Ekosians."

"_And_ the Zeons." T'Kir amended after receiving a telepathic prompt from Macen.

"As for what they wanted," Macen picked up the conversation a heartbeat later, "There are two major asteroid belts in the system. One is rich in duranium the other is laden with latinum."

"Latinum." Prentiss whispered as her eyes widened.

"The locals had already discovered it when the Ferengi arrived." Macen continued, "They also knew it was valuable. I suspect the last Federation cultural observer wasn't as circumspect as he'd made everyone think."

"But giving them guns?" Prentiss asked, implying that there was a greater good to be considered.

"They can get them from us or buy them from the Ferengi." Macen replied, "I'd rather forge a friendship out of a simple exchange than an enemy."

"Exchange?" Prentiss wondered, "What exchange?"

Macen grinned, "They want guns. I want information. Trade one for the other and what do you have?"

A sly grin crept over Prentiss' features, "An exchange."

"You've got it." Macen nodded, "Now please sit down. We have work to do."

Prentiss bobbed her head, "All right."

Daggit returned to the bridge, "The prisoner has been deported."

"Rab," Macen stood before his hulking subordinate, "I need you to break out those phaser rifles we stashed aboard before departing."

"The Type-3's?" Daggit enquired.

"Those are the ones." Macen confirmed.

"You're going to give them away, aren't you?" Daggit wore a victorious grin.

"Yes." Macen automatically replied and then he hesitated, "Why?"

"Jenrya and I had a little bet going over what you were going to do with those surplus rifles." Daggit's smile blossomed, "I won."

"Get out of here before I throw you in the brig." Macen chuckled.

"We don't have a brig." Daggit countered.

"How about we throw you out an airlock?" Macen asked.

Daggit shrugged, "Okay. I guess that would work."

"Just get going." Macen laughed, "I have to talk to the locals and tell them their guns are ready."

"Nothing to do around here but work." Daggit cheerfully grumbled as he left the bridge.

"Oh, darling," T'Kir said sweetly, "someone's calling for you."

"Is it Kend?" Macen wondered.

"Nope." T'Kir replied, "It's Amanda. She wants a word."

Macen rolled his eyes, "Pipe it into my office and tell her I'll be there in a minute."

"Will do, love of my life, but what'll we tell the natives if they call for you?" T'Kir playfully asked.

"Tom," Macen stared at Riker, "_you _talk to them."

"Me?" Riker pointed at himself.

"Tell them that you're the 1st Officer, which you are, and tell them we'll follow them home. Got it?" Macen suggested.

"I don't know." Riker scratched his head, "You want to follow them where?"

"Shut up." Macen replied, "I'm leaving now. Anyone have any messages for Admiral Drake?"

"Nothing I'd say out loud." T'Kir muttered.

"I'll take that as a 'No'." Macen ducked out.

_What kind of people am I travelling with?_ Prentiss wondered. A chortle of laughter from T'Kir reminded her that she wasn't entirely alone in her own mind any more. Prentiss sighed and leaned back in her chair. This was going to be a long assignment.


	15. Chapter 15

Drake drummed her fingers across the top of her desk. She didn't normally fidget this much but there was a lot on her mind and she surely wished Macen would answer his damned comm. She also knew that she rarely contacted him during a mission. He'd call her but things rarely operated in reverse.

Macen preferred having a fair degree of autonomy and since he was no longer a serving member of Starfleet she was forced to give it to him. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. Heavens knew he'd accomplished veritable miracles before without any input from her. She also knew her reasons for calling had very little to do with his current case.

Drake's screen shifted and Macen's visage appeared. He didn't look annoyed. Rather, he looked slightly amused. She wondered what she was interrupting.

"`Lo Amanda." Macen said with a mirthful tone tugging at his voice, "I see that you're keeping the strings awfully tight this time around."

"Sometimes an employer likes to know what she's paying for." Drake replied in a jovial manner, "So spill it. What's going on?"

"We've arrived in the Zynar system and have met the enemy." Macen smirked.

"I take it the _Loki_ performed up to specs?" Drake queried him.

"She took three of the raiders completely by surprise." Macen happily reported, "Two of the other three fled the system."

"Two?" Drake was confused, "What happened to the third one?"

"The locals got him." Macen grinned, "They've showed up here to. They want to collect the prisoners. Seems the pirates harassed them as well."

"They have the capability to cripple a Miradorn raider?" Drake couldn't quite believe her ears.

"Amanda," Macen was trying to soften the blow to her preconceptions, "They're flitting about the system in fighter craft armed with plasma launchers and photon microtorpedoes. They're using ore haulers as troop transports and prison shuttles."

"Photons?" Drake yelped, "How'd they get those?"

"From a Ferengi firm establishing a trading post here." Macen answered.

"What do the Ekosians and Zeons have that the Ferengi want?" Drake wondered.

"Latinum." Macen revealed, "In abundance."

"Oh!" Drake's eyes widened, "That would do it."

"So what's the real reason that prompted your calling?" Macen asked.

"I…uh…what?" Drake stammered.

"C'mon Amanda, you only call when something's hit your panic button and you want to yell at me." Macen explained, "You've been nothing but polite and inquisitive. What's wrong?"

"I…" Drake hesitated.

"Amanda…" Macen prompted her.

"Alynna ran a review of Richard's company." Drake pressed forward, "Something's wrong. He's getting payments from unlisted clients for services unspecified. He also has accounts under different aliases. She's tracking down where he purchased the ID files. They're works of art."

"That alone narrows the list of suspects." Macen opined.

"You'll appreciate this particular irony: one of his clients is Pytor Boromov." Drake reported.

Macen frowned, "I appreciate that in ways you don't want to hear about."

"Alynna's pulling in Boromov for a round of questioning." Drake revealed, "No one expects it to be very revealing."

"Let T'Kir question him." Macen suggested, "He'll crack like an egg."

"Sorry but there's no time to waste. Richard and his entire crew have disappeared." Drake explained, "They departed from Earth yesterday. Alynna rerouted a patrol ship to intercept them along their filed flightplan. They never showed."

Wile Macen digested the implications of this, Drake continued, "A convoy of freighters spotted a _Barracuda_-class sporting Richard's registered ID. It was headed for the Meirkus Cluster."

The Meirkus Conglomeration was a loose gathering of non-aligned worlds. Most of them had marginal degrees of law and order. The Conglomeration produced more than its share of the quadrant's pirates.

"Sounds suspicious enough." Macen said at last, "Has Alynna authorised a full investigation?"

"The mission's yours if you want it after you complete your current contract." Drake announced.

Macen nodded, "Of course I'll take it. You do realise that I'm going to have to extensively interview you."

Drake nodded stiffly, "I can't say this hasn't been difficult or embarrassing but I want to cooperate however I can."

"Send me everything Starfleet has on him and his crew and I'll take a look during the quieter moments of our mission."

"I already have a packet prepared." Drake said. She paused and then said, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't found them and they're going to have quite a head start on me by the time I'm ready to look." Macen replied.

"I understand that." Drake acknowledged, "However, you're our best hope of getting the job done. Richard knows you're a privateer. He doesn't know that you're contracted with the SID. The whole gun for hire motif may inspire a sense of camaraderie. He's also a fan of yours from your days with Starfleet Intelligence. Use that against him."

Macen grinned, "I'll keep it in mind. Anything else?"

Drake shrugged, "That about covers it."

"How's Shannon?" Macen enquired.

Drake brightened, "The doctors say she's adapting well. She's having difficulties transitioning to a 'clean' life but that's understandable."

"Give her my best and tell her the entire team is pulling for her." Macen requested.

Drake smiled warmly, "I will. Take care, Brin."

"You too." Macen urged, "Macen out."

The screen reverted back to its image of the UFP seal. Drake leaned back in her chair and pondered the meeting. It had certainly been out of character. Macen had been both polite and respectful. He was generally polite but respectful? Not a chance.

She could see that baring her soul to him had fundamentally changed their relationship. They were meeting as equals and as such Macen was much more receptive. She cursed herself for not having done so in the past.

Nechayev had warned her that Macen's time in the field combined with the autonomy he'd been given had fostered a sense of equality within him. He could be friends with his superior. He'd respond positively as long as said superior did not try and impose their own sense of elevation due to rank upon him. Nechayev had walked that tightrope for several years.

Drake had tried the traditional chain of command approach. It hadn't bred hostility but it had fostered indifference. Macen would proceed however he intended despite any misgivings expressed by Drake. Reaching out to him as a friend had changed all of that.

This time around she hadn't treated him like a subordinate. In return, he took her suggestions and whatever scraps of information she could pass along with grace. There were no flippant comments or sarcastic remarks though Drake knew those would return. Even Nechayev hadn't been completely shielded from Macen's mouth and attitude.

Drake vowed she wouldn't return the relationship back to where it had been. It time to explore new possibilities. Rising from her desk, she moved to the replicator and ordered some tea. Returning to her desk, she commed Ambril and requested that her inbox be updated. Her aide complied and Drake swiftly lost herself in activity reports.

* * *

Macen reappeared on the bridge to find Riker lounging in the centre seat. He came to stand next to his 1st Officer and asked, "So, what's our status?"

"Kend called again." Riker reported, "She'll be flying point and we'll follow in her wake. We'll be departing in twenty minutes."

"I take it that's when the troops show up." Macen surmised.

"Nope." Riker countered, "Their ETA is in five minutes."

"But we're departing in twenty?" Macen sought clarification.

"Apparently Kend wants to oversee the initial boarding actions." Riker revealed.

"So would I." Macen admitted, "Honey, can you hack into the pirate's internal security sensors and display what's going on over there?"

"Do ducks like water?" T'Kir retorted as she got busy.

"This could prove disastrous." Macen muttered.

"I heard that." T'Kir warned, "You're my husband. You supposed to adore me. So worship away."

"I do worship you," Macen laughed, "otherwise you'd still be locked away in the Andes Institute."

"Always bringin' that up." T'Kir muttered, "That and the stabbing incident…always gotta beat me over the head with those."

Macen moved over to her station and kissed her in the head, "You know I do it out of love."

"Love this." T'Kir made an obscene gesture and Macen returned, chuckling, to Riker's side.

"A good day to be alive." Macen's good humour was infectious and Riker grinned back.

Radil chose that moment to enter the bridge, "So is anything going on or can I go back to bed?"

"I got it." T'Kir happily declared.

The viewscreen shifted to an image of pirates preparing their bridge for boarding. Radil suddenly gasped.

Macen turned to her, "What is it?"

"I recognise one of those pirates." Radil revealed, "He's Skip Rosemont. We served in Brazzinik's Battalions together."

"Brazz-who's Battalions?" Macen asked.

"Brazzinik." Radil answered, "He was the founder of the mercenary company so he got to name it after himself."

"And this Rosemont, you were friends?" Macen sought clarification.

"We were comrades in arms." Radil answered, "We shared the occasional night but it was always a spur of the moment dalliance."

"Do you want him to stay alive?" Macen pressed.

Radil shrugged, "If he's the same Skip I know, he could prove useful as an informant."

Macen was intrigued, "Why's that?"

"Skip is a rich boy playing war to scandalise his parents." Radil revealed, "He was a good fighter but always thought of war as a game. It seems to me that maybe the game has caught up with him and he might like a chance to get out of it."

Macen's eyes were still locked in on Radil's. Neither his intuition nor his metaphysical senses were alerting him to any weakness on her part. She saw Rosemont as a potentially useful tool. It had probably always been her perception.

"T'Kir, which ship is that?" Macen asked.

"The centre one." T'Kir replied, "Also known as the _Guderion_."

"Position of the locals' boarding parties?" Macen enquired.

"They're assuming position alongside the centre ship while the others near their targets." Danan reported.

"Inform Kend that we're monitoring the situation." Macen ordered, "Alert her to the fact to withdraw her forces if they meet resistance and we will deal the resistance."

"She wants to know how." T'Kir reported.

"Tell her she'll receive a free demonstration of photon torpedoes at work." Macen replied, "Jenrya, point out Rosemont for Lees so she can acquire him on her sensors and route his coordinates to you in the transporter."

Radil complied and she started for the exit. Macen motioned Riker aside, "Accompany her. I think her former friend will be too shocked to shoot first but I'd rather be safe."

"I know the feeling." Riker concurred just loud enough for Macen, and T'Kir, to hear.

Danan focused her attention on the readings in her sensor hood, "Found him. I'm relaying coordinates now." Danan toggled the intercom and told Radil exactly that.

Macen watched as Rosemont dematerialised on the screen. He idly wondered what the look on Rosemont's face was.

* * *

"Good news, my dear." Sindis said to Ryst as she emerged from his private work out chamber. She dabbed her sweaty forehead as her behaviour mods deactivated and allowed her to react like a "typical" humanoid again.

She threw the towel over her shoulder, "What is it?"

"An unknown, and heavily armed, freighter wandered into the Zynar system and crippled three of our raiders. The locals staged an impromptu revolt and crippled a fourth. The remaining two are headed here." Sindis smiled.

Ryst frowned, "And this is cause for celebration because…?"

"Because, dear Annika, our trap has been sprung." Sindis looked as though he'd swallowed a canary, "The ship was a Q-ship. One so powerful that it must have been produced at the enigmatic SPYards. It was undoubtedly a Starfleet Intelligence operation. The severity of the response would indicate that there was indeed a SID team crewing the freighter."

"But the trap failed and now they'll follow the remaining raiders here." Ryst protested.

"Quite the contrary," Sindis' smile was as cold as it was predatory, "the trap has just been sprung. Those fools were mere cannon fodder. I knew that they would turn and run. That's why I sent them. I want them followed. I want them followed _here_."

"You want Macen to personally face you." Ryst wrapped her mind around it.

"Here he has no support, no avenue of escape, and no chance in hell." Sindis gloated, "He will be dead before he has even taken measure of the place."

"C'mon," Ryst began to lead the way, "I need some fruit juice and we have a toast to drink."

* * *

Rosemont's reaction was one of sheer terror. He waved his disruptor around, erratically aiming at Riker and then Radil. Riker had his phaser drawn but Radil kept her hands visible in the air. After several moments of Rosemount's frenetic panic, Radil began to speak.

"Skip?" she said softly, gently trying to prod his memory, "It's me, Jenrya. Do you remember who I am?"

Rosemont kept his disruptor trained on Riker but he cautiously cast a glance towards Radil, "Jenrya? I don't know a Jenrya."

"Yes, you do." Radil assured him, "Look at me. Try to remember Brazzinik's Battalions. We served in the same platoon."

"Brazzinik's…" Rosemont's eyes widened and he stared at Radil, "Oh my God…Jenny?"

"Jenny?" Riker repeated as Rosemont declared, "It is you!"

Radil aimed a finger at Riker, "Drop it." Her finger shifted to Rosemont, "Hand over the damned gun and follow me so we can do something about that cut on your forehead."

Rosemont touched his forehead and winced. Stepping down off the transporter pads, he handed Riker his pistol, "Imagine seeing Jenny after all of these years."

"Must be a shock." Riker replied.

"Come over here." Radil forcefully demanded, "Now!"

Rosemont loosed a wistful sigh, "Some things are eternal."

Riker held him by his arm, "Listen, find me later. We need to talk."

"Rest assured, old chap. I shall." Rosemont promised and then followed in Radil's wake.

"Jenny." Riker murmured to himself and returned to the bridge wearing a broad smile.

* * *

"What's with the smile?" Macen asked as Riker appeared.

"I'll let Jenny explain it to you." Riker mirthfully replied.

"Jenny?" Macen repeated.

"You know, Jenny Radil." Riker chortled.

Macen looked to T'Kir. She winked and a moment later relayed what she'd seen in Riker's mind. Macen smiled.

"It seems we'll have to get to know Mr. Rosemont." Macen chuckled, "To equalise the odds for Jenrya's sake if for no other reason."

Riker's head snapped around in the direction of T'Kir. She blew him a kiss. He ruefully shook his head.

"You two don't play fair." He complained.

"We'll see about fair play in just a second." Macen advised, "The Ekosians are boarding."

The main viewer showed a split screen display. One scene showed the exterior of the _Guderion_ as the Ekosian ore hauler hard docked with it. The other showed the pirates laying in wait.

"Contact Kend," Macen ordered, "have her troops ready to withdraw at a moment's notice."

"She'll take it under advisement." T'Kir replied.

Macen muttered a dark incantation under his breath. The ore hauler's umbilical sealed against the raider's hull. From the interior view, the airlock rolled open and the Ekosians charged in two abreast. They'd nearly reached the first junction when the pirates revealed themselves and open fired.

It was a case of particle weapons versus plasma guns. The Ekosians put up a stiff resistance but they were open and exposed. Their line of retreat was blocked by the rear echelon rushing forward to reinforce. It had become a charnel house and Macen was through with it.

"Patch me in to Kend!" Macen snapped, "Flight Leader Kend, withdraw your personnel and we will permanently deal with these scum."

The overwhelmed Ekosians finally began a fighting retreat. Half their number was cut down before the managed to close the airlock again. The pirates cheered and congratulated one another.

"Am I still on with Kend?" Macen asked. T'Kir nodded an affirmative and he continued, "Flight Leader Kend, redeploy your forces so that they achieve a minimum safety distance of five thousand kilometres from the boarded ship."

"They're moving away." Danan reported.

"Let me know when the Ekosians are all clear." Macen turned to Daggit, "Target a brace of photons. I want that ship destroyed."

"Here now!" Prentiss was on her feet, "You just can't…"

Macen silenced her with a look, "I warned them. They ignored that warning and now they'll reap the benefits."

"But you can't!" Prentiss repeated, "It's…"

"Illegal? Immoral? Against Starfleet regulations to destroy one crippled ship in order to tame two more?" Macen quipped, "Care to take your pick?"

"This will go in my report." Prentiss warned.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Macen retorted, "Lees?"

"The last hauler just cleared the minimum distance barrier." Danan informed him.

"Rab, take `em out." Macen's eyes were still locked on Prentiss'. He could see the anguish there as well as the uncertainty. He respected the uncertainty and had no time for the anguish.

Daggit fired three torpedoes and the _Guderion _broke apart. Macen turned back towards the screen, "Put me on with the pirate chiefs and Kend."

Macen stared levelly at the viewer pick up, "You've tasted the results of resistance. If you want to survive, cooperate with your boarding parties. We _will_ be watching."

Macen signalled T'Kir to cut the transmission. Turning to Riker, he said, "Monitor the remaining actions. If the pirates put up a fight, repeat the lesson."

Riker swallowed hard but he nodded, "All right."

Macen stepped over to Prentiss, "I sense that you want to talk to me."

"Can we go somewhere private?" Prentiss was trying hard to control her temper.

"My office?" Macen suggested.

"Perfect." Prentiss readily agreed and stepped off of the bridge. Macen glanced back, "Keep her steady, Tom."

"Always." Riker promised.


	16. Chapter 16

The door to the Captain's Office closed behind Macen and he queried Prentiss, "What do you want?"

Prentiss wheeled about on him with such force and with a new wave of resolve that Macen had to reappraise her, "I know why you're doing this. I've read your file, Captain."

"That's hardly news." Macen remarked, "I'd assumed that you've read SID's files on all of us."

"I've read your classified file." Prentiss revealed, "Your 'Eyes Only' file only open to Admirals Nechayev and Drake."

_That _stopped Macen cold, "And?"

"I know why you're a privateer." Prentiss continued.

"That's in my declassified file." Macen snorted, "It's ancient history."

"I know what you dream about." Prentiss said and Macen's guts froze, "I know why you joined the Maquis, why you're a privateer, and what you secretly want to do."

"And what is that?" Macen asked with far less confidence than he would have liked.

"You're the perfect little idealist." Prentiss began, "You've always wanted to create the perfect little universe. Noble ambition but somewhere along the way you got twisted. You now want to create this idyllic existence by any means necessary. Whether by reason, teaching, armed force or wanton violence, you want to destroy all that we know and recreate it in your image."

"Not my image…" Macen began to protest.

Prentiss laughed, "Of course not. You want a future moulded by some ethereal deities known to you as the 'Fates'. In other words you want to take us back two hundred years and return to paganism."

"You don't know what you're discussing." Macen said in an ominous tone.

"Yes, I do. All of these ultimatums are designed to allow you to lash out and lay one more brick in your road to perfection. You survived the Borg only to become them." Prentiss opined.

Prentiss suddenly stopped. She saw something in Macen's eyes that scared her. She saw her own demise and she knew there was nothing she could do about it if she chose to act at this moment. She stood perfectly still as Macen spoke.

"You know nothing about the Borg." He said in quiet, yet threatening, voice, "You may, however, know something about me. Keep it to yourself."

"Your crew doesn't know." She suddenly realised.

"My wife knows and she's told her closest friend." Macen elaborated, "The others don't need to know. This information was classified for a reason. To protect the misinformed from themselves."

"Information is freedom." Prentiss argued, "You could get help."

"I don't need help." Macen retorted, "My belief system is as valid as yours."

"My belief system doesn't endorse murder and anarchy." Prentiss countered.

"Doesn't it?" Macen derisively asked, "I'm assuming you believe in the Federation."

"Of course I do." Prentiss snapped.

"The Federation may condemn discrimination, murder, and social injustice within their own borders but they willingly tolerate it in foreign planets that they deal with." Macen accused, "As long as the guilty party has a vital resource or is a 'strategic partner' all sins are forgiven."

"The Prime Directive forbids tampering with a planet's right to determine their own customs." Prentiss remarked.

"Yes, we choose the diplomatic route wherein we let them do whatever they wish and we make polite but feeble protests based upon humanitarian grounds but the death tolls continue to rise and the persecuted get no relief." Macen passionately argued, "Relativistic values will be the downfall of this civilisation. The Federation and its neighbours need to come together and establish a core set of absolute principles. Values that can be applied to any form of life and sentience."

"And I suppose that you'll be the one dictating these values?" Prentiss scornfully asked.

Macen grew irritated, "As I said, this would be a collaborative effort. The end result would be the thing to look forward to not the process."

"And what end result would we be addressing here?" Prentiss sarcasm continued unabated.

"Universal absolutes." Macen said with a hint of a smile, "Standards that could be embraced by all cultures."

"It'll never happen." Prentiss dismissed his dream in a single breath, "At least, not until you lead a galaxy wide revolution."

"You'd be amazed at the power of education." Macen replied, "It can change civilisations. A revolution of ideas if you wish."

Prentiss suddenly swallowed hard. Could she see it? Macen had at least another three hundred years on this mortal plane. That left a lot of time to spread ideas and exert influence.

Prentiss opened her mouth to reply but Macen cut her off, "Are we done here?"

Prentiss nodded and Macen dismissively asked, "Could you send T'Kir in here?"

Prentiss wanted to argue but didn't see the point. She left without saying another word. Macen ordered some juice and sat down at "his" desk. T'Kir bounded into the room.

"I see you got rid of your headache." She cheerfully observed.

"She's seen my file." Macen grumbled, "The _unabridged_ edition."

"Yah, I got that." T'Kir ordered herself some coffee and plopped down into the chair situated in front of the desk.

"She thinks that document sums me up into one neat little unstable package." Macen complained.

"So show her you're not." T'Kir urged.

"I think the jury has already decided." Macen opined.

"Nah." T'Kir grinned, "She's still confused. As long as she's bewildered she hasn't made up her mind. Besides, you neglected to tell her that you want to educate an entire army into handing you the galaxy."

"Thank you for that encouragement." Macen deadpanned.

"Besides, the current mission's not over." T'Kir revealed, "Far from it."

"Dirge?" Macen enquired.

T'Kir nodded, "Yup. Seems our missing raiders are headed for Mityr."

"Isn't that in the Meirkus Conglomeration?" Macen asked.

"Yup." T'Kir confirmed, "And a more lawless place you never have found."

"I think I ran across an intelligence report on it not too long ago." Macen said, "Something about some new strongman uniting the factions on Mityr."

"Y'might wanna bone up on the place cus that's where we're headed." T'Kir suggested.

"How's our situation with the Ekosians?" Macen asked.

"How come they're suddenly Ekosians when they were natives ten minutes ago?" T'Kir wondered.

Macen blushed, "I remembered the file on these people. The Zeons are the technical innovators. They're also pacifistic. The Ekosians are aggressive and make up the military arm of the two worlds."

"Don'cha think that would have been useful ten minutes ago?" T'Kir dryly enquired.

"Probably, but I can't remember everything." Macen said a tad defensively.

"Oh relax." T'Kir said playfully, "We're still alive. No one's gonna take away your Captain's privileges so don't worry `bout it."

"You're such a comfort." Macen remarked dryly.

T'Kir bowed her head, "I try. I really do."

"Okay, scoot." Macen said, "Have Tom call me when we enter orbit over Ekos."

T'Kir raised her right arm in a salute, "Yes suh."

"What's that?" Macen looked pained.

"Just trying to jive with the locals." T'Kir said.

"Don't." Macen urged, "Ever."

T'Kir stuck out her tongue, "You're no fun."

"Thank the Fates for small favours."

"Whatever." T'Kir sat her mug down on Macen's desk and rose out of the chair, "See ya."

* * *

Macen called up Starfleet Intelligence's latest dispatches concerning Mityr. He didn't like what he saw in the summaries alone. He requested the raw intell to go along with the abstracts. The intercom interrupted his train of thought.

"Captain," Radil's voice _almost _pleaded, "can you join us in the mess? Skip needs to talk to you."

Macen quickly rose. If Radil were seeking help then the situation definitely needed his attention. It struck him as odd on how much he depended on Radil now.

She'd joined the team under protest after Daggit had unwittingly kidnapped her from her assignment with the Orion Syndicate. The Syndicate assumed, incorrectly, that Radil wanted to "escape" with Daggit and had placed a bounty on her head. Macen offered her a steady job and a refuge from the Syndicate's headhunters.

Always a dedicated soldier, Radil threw herself into whatever duties she was assigned. Over time she came to realise that she'd found a potential home. It was left to her to decide whether or not to accept the invitation and embrace the group.

Radil made her choice after her death mark had been rescinded. She threw herself into the team as never before. She had no regrets and had never looked back. Her steadfastness had become indispensable. Macen wondered what kind of insight into her mysterious past did Rosemont represent?

Macen arrived at the Mess. The doors were locked open. Macen quietly stepped in and found Radil and Rosemont seated at the closest table. Rosemont's back was to the door. Radil looked relaxed but Macen could see the underlying tension waiting to erupt into action.

"Captain," Radil smiled, "may I introduce Skippy Rosemont."

Rosemont turned from reaching out to shake Macen's hand in order to glare at Radil, "You know I hate my given name."

"Call me 'Jenny' one more time and see what happens." Radil warned.

Rosemont looked properly chastised. He went to shake Macen's hand only to find that Macen hadn't extended his hand in return. Macen took a seat next to Radil.

"Hello Mr. Rosemont." Macen leaned on his elbows, "Do you know why you're here?"

"Jenny… er, Radil said I'd been brought aboard to do you a service." Rosemont grinned, "I do suppose that one good turn deserves another."

"I agree." Macen locked eyes with the man, "The _Gunderion_ has been destroyed. You're the sole surviving member of her crew."

"Those neo-barbs destroyed the ship?" Rosemont was in shock.

"No, Mr. Rosemont," Macen's voice was laced with hidden danger, "_I_ did."

"But why?" Rosemont blurted.

"They resisted." Macen answered, "They were warned not to but they did it anyways. You'll be happy to learn the crew of the other ships have complied and are still alive."

"You're inhuman." Rosemont gasped.

"Point in fact: I'm not human." Macen admitted, "While we're at it let's not mention the dozens of freighters, cruise liners and pleasure craft that you and your associates attacked over the last six months. I'm sure evidence given by them will exonerate you and your comrades."

Macen let his words sink in and then began anew, "The locals don't seem to like you or your fellows very well. Care to say why?"

Rosemont stared at the table, "No."

"Listen," Macen relented slightly, "I'm handing you and your comrades over to the Ekosians. I have an idea how to elevate your situation but you need to cooperate. Are you interested?"

Rosemont looked up. His eyes were red and swollen, "I'll do whatever you want."

"Tell me about Mityr." Macen inquired, "Who's in charge there? What kind of defences do they have?"

"I don't know a lot but here's what I do know…" Rosemont began his description.

* * *

Thirty minutes later Rosemont had spilled his guts and Macen had described his plan to him. Rosemont was completely at ease over being handed over to the Ekosians and was even eager to disembark from the _Loki_. Riker had paged Macen and the good Captain was returning to the bridge.

"Are we there yet?" Macen asked as he stepped onto the bridge.

"Take a look." Riker gestured towards the viewer. An emerald and sapphire planet met his gaze. Two ruined space stations hung in orbit. Undoubtedly a legacy left by the pirates. Dozens of impulse driven fighter craft swarmed around the Q-ship.

"They want to board us." Riker warned, "I've been putting them off but they're getting insistent."

"Put them on." Macen exchanged places with Riker. A bald man with a Van Dyke beard appeared. He wore the customary grey and black staff uniform belonging to the Wehrmacht Heer.

"Are you Captain Macen?" the man asked, showing signs of frustration.

"I am." Macen replied.

The Ekosian officer brightened, "Excellent. I am Planetary Marshal Gelt Riekann. I have been discussing matters with your subordinate. You must permit us to inspect your vessel."

"May I ask what this inspection is for?" Macen enquired.

"We have had enough of piracy in our system." Riekann declared, "We must determine what your intentions are."

"We neutralised three of your pirates with no assistance from your forces." Macen recalled, "Furthermore, we eliminated a threat to your forces. Add these facts to the simple truth that we could easily destroy the rest of your starfaring forces and raze your planet and you'll see that by refraining we prove ourselves to be your allies."

Riekann blanched but his resolve remained intact, "Yes, we appreciate what you have done _and _what are your obvious good intentions. I must still insist upon inspecting your ship if you intend to remain in this system for any length of time."

Macen weighed his options and nodded, "Very well."

This was said to Riekann's obvious relief, "I'm so pleased that you wish to cooperate. We mean no insult it's just that with the recent advent of the raiders we cannot afford to risk a second siege."

"Yes." Macen nodded, "I was hoping to discuss these matters with you in depth."

"I'll look forward to it…_after_ your ship and crew pass inspection." Riekann said, "Now on to other items: There will be a slight delay in launching the transport with the inspection team."

"I hope it isn't anything serious." Macen honestly hoped. If it was a bad situation he was sure his crew would get the blame.

"No, no," Riekann dismissed the notion, "Colonel Kend has requested to be attached to the inspection team. She has just landed her fighter and is proceeding to the transport."

"Very well." Macen replied, "We'd love to have her aboard. What is your transport's ETA?"

"Ten minutes." Riekann answered a little too smoothly.

"We'll be waiting for them." Macen smiled, "_Loki_ out."

The screen went dark and Macen's focus shifted to Grace, "What's their realistic ETA, Hannah?"

"Based upon the space based performance profile, and assuming that their RCS thruster technology is concurrent with the same level of development," Grace paused to do the math in her head, "I'd say forty to forty-five minutes."

Macen activated the intercom, "All right people, we have work to do. Rab and Tom, secure the cargo holds. Joachim, secure engineering. I do not want these people near our warp core. Kort, lockdown the Infirmary and hide your _bat'leth_. Radil, keep Rosemont in the Mess until called for. Hannah, prepare to break orbit and plot us a vector towards the Meirkus Conglomeration. T'Kir, standby for Intrusion-Level One. Lees, keep your eyes on your sensors. I want to know when they're arriving. Okay, everyone get busy."

"What about me?" Prentiss asked.

"Stay out of the way and don't get taken hostage." Macen instructed.

"What do you mean, 'don't get taken hostage'?" Prentiss demanded.

"My guess is that these people are coming aboard to take our cargo and to take us as prisoners." Macen impatiently explained, "My job is to prevent that and still remain friends. In order to do that I need you to implicitly obey orders _when _they're given. Do we have an understanding?"

Prentiss nodded but he could see hesitation in her eyes. Somehow, sometime during this boarding, she was going to make trouble. Macen just hoped he could get her out of it unscathed.

Right now, Macen was cursing Edward Jellico's name. He might be the second most powerful officer in Starfleet but he was the single biggest pain in Macen's ass. Someday soon, _and _very soon, he and Macen were going to have to come to grips with their enmity. It was starting to get in the way of job performance.

Macen couldn't understand why Jellico still felt irritable with him. Jellico and Mackenzie Calhoun had patched up their differences and there had been a history of personal violence there. So why was the good Admiral in a tizzy regarding Outbound Ventures and Macen's SID team?

Even as he asked the question, he realised the answer. _Outbound Ventures_ was the problem. If Macen were still a uniformed officer then he and Jellico would have found a way to resolve this conflict. Since he was a privateer he was unworthy of such a role as the SID's vanguard unit.

Jellico's methods for dealing with Macen's team were by the book and totally irrelevant to a non-Starfleet organisation. Jellico's only hope lay in voiding Outbound Ventures' contract with the SID. Since four out five members of the Security Council of Five had voted to renew Macen's contract, Jellico needed the spectre of a human rights violation or a charge of murder to push the agenda back to a vote. Despite Prentiss' presence aboard, Macen was certain that the team wouldn't give her cause for alarm.

* * *

The Ekosian transport docked ten minutes earlier than had been anticipated. Grace jotted down a note about it and placed the padd back into her pocket. Riker manned the airlock and waited for the banging on the door to reaffirm the door's sensor reading of a successful hard dock.

The anticipated clang arrived and Riker cycled the door. Immediately and armed and armoured Ekosian aimed his rifle at Riker and began screaming for him to face the wall with arms and legs spread. A squad of eleven Ekosians rushed into the freighter's central core and fanned out. Two of the intruders stormed the bridge and began shouting orders.

"Face down on the deck!" The lead Ekosian ordered, "Fingers laced atop your head."

Macen and the team remained where they were. Down the corridor weapons fire could be heard. The apparent leader swore, "Find out who that is and instruct them to hold their fire."

The subordinate whispered into his radio while the leader reiterated his earlier demand, "Face down, now!"

Prentiss rose and moved towards the Ekosian, "I'm sure we can work this ou…"

The Ekosian grabbed her. Plucking her phaser out of its holster, he spun her about and placed his rifle barrel into her back. He aimed the phaser pistol at Macen. The entire SID team had their weapons drawn and ready.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Macen said while sighting down the barrel of his gun, "Just release the girl and we can talk."

"No." the Ekosian remarked, "You lay down your weapons or she dies. I'll give you until the count of five."

"If she dies you'll be joining her in the afterlife." Macen vowed.

"One." The Ekosian began his countdown. His fellow aimed his rifle into the "crowd".

"Rab?" Macen asked.

"Two."

"You have the shot?"

"Three."

"Give the word." Daggit replied.

"Four." The Ekosian's finger tightened on the rifle's trigger.


	17. Chapter 17

Sindis and Ryst were comparing notes on the Syndicate's smuggling operations when an aide reported to Sindis. She handed Sindis a padd and departed. Sindis read the document displayed by the padd and smiled. Ryst noted the change of mood.

"I assume it's good news." She observed.

Sindis nodded, "My agent on Ekos has reported in. He has dispatched agents to eliminate Macen and his team."

Ryst snorted, "Good luck with that."

"I don't honestly expect them to succeed but their sacrifice will lead them to my agent and that in turn will make the trail to Mityr even more tantalising." Sindis wore a predatory smile.

"You don't think Macen will simply waltz into your clutches do you?" Ryst asked.

"Captain Macen will attempt some subterfuge to garner my good graces. I will know it for the lie it is and Macen will know that I know." Sindis wore a pleased smile, "And then the game will be afoot."

"You're either the shrewdest bastard I've ever met or you're the most foolhardy." Ryst opined.

"Call it what you will as long as it succeeds." Sindis replied, "Come now; let us finish our examination of the benefits of merging Mityr's operations with the Syndicate's."

Ryst knew that Sindis knew an infinite amount of knowledge on the subject and she could barely contribute little more than a delighted equivalent of "Ooh, good plan" once in awhile. It was rather embarrassing and she knew that the slight was intentional.

Sindis had been unable to best her on the sparring mat and his ego was wounded. His revenge was little conferences like this. She was a trigger puller, not a strategist. Grand details and aspirations bored her to tears. Still, she did her duty and paid attention and dutifully said, "Ooh, good plan" when it was expected. Quietly, in her innermost heart, she plotted her revenge for the indignity and knew that Sindis would soon be brought low.

* * *

Macen opened his mouth in order to instruct Daggit to shoot both Ekosian commandoes. He never got the chance. A distinctly feminine voice spoke out ordering the two soldiers to stand down. It projected an ironclad authority laced with supreme confidence. The commandoes hesitated.

A Nordic Valkyrie appeared behind the increasingly bewildered Ekosians. She wore a grey on black uniform in the same cut as what the Luftwaffe wore. Macen recognised the platinum haired newcomer as being one Jorra Kend. Kend had drawn her service sidearm and Macen wondered how she would tip the balance of power on the bridge.

"Sergeant," Kend spoke with icy disapproval, "I've ordered you and your troopers to stand down. Why are you disobeying an order from a superior officer?"

"I'm Planetary Forces." The Sergeant sneered, "You are a Stellar Forces Colonel. You have no authority over me."

Kend moved her pistol and nestled its barrel into the back of the man's skull, "You are operating in _my _domain. If you refuse to acknowledge my jurisdiction as the ranking Stellar Forces officer on the scene I shall simply incinerate your brain and find someone who will."

"I can't lay down my arms, Colonel." The Sergeant grated, "If you hadn't noticed their entire bridge crew is aiming weapons at the Private and me."

"That's probably because you're holding a member of that same crew hostage." Kend dryly observed, "And they're probably getting tired of waiting for you to surrender."

"They're tired of…" The Sergeant's eyes went wide, "Private…"

"Rab." Was all Macen said. Daggit fired a particle burst into the Sergeant's face and then quickly pivoted and placed a stream burst into the Ekosian Private's armoured chest. Macen surged forward and caught Prentiss as she blindly stumbled forward. Daggit pushed past Kend, whose hands were in the air, and he inspected the outer corridor.

Macen pulled Prentiss onto her feet and passed her to T'Kir, "Pull her together."

"Sure," T'Kir groused, "give me 'Mission Impossible'."

Danan had moved across the cramped area of the bridge and was scanning the two downed Ekosians with a tricorder. Kend slid closer and took an interest in Danan's ministrations.

"Will they live?" she asked.

Danan, who was kneeling over the Private, looked up, "This one will live. The Sergeant is dead. No known humanoid can survive a heavy stun blast to the head."

Macen cursed under his breath, "Why did your Marshal want my cargo confiscated and my crew taken prisoner?"

Kend looked extremely uneasy. Macen held up a hand to ward off her reply. Instead he looked to Daggit.

"Rab, what's our status?" Macen enquired.

"Two of the Ekosians are at the Mess waving rifles around." Macen blinked when Daggit grinned, "One of theirs is also on the ground. I'm assuming Jenrya got him."

"Safe bet." Macen opined, "Any others?"

"There's one poking around Engineering." Daggit reported, "One is guarding Riker. I'm assuming the other five are in the holds."

"Signal Joachim." Macen ordered, "He can deal with the intruder nearest Engineering. After liberating Tom, you take out one of the others at the Mess. That should provide Radil with a sufficient opening to take out the other one. After you neutralise those five, move into the holds and flush the rest out."

Macen thought about it and revised his orders, "Instruct Dracas to keep that sword of his sheathed. I don't want him skewering anyone."

"Does that apply to all lethal force?" Daggit asked.

"Only employ it if absolutely necessary." Macen instructed, "I will be conducting a full investigation of every death."

"Got it." Daggit sketched a jovial salute and disappeared. Weapons fire could be heard a moment later. Macen was left wondering what had happened to his emotionless super soldier. _A grin and a jaunty salute during combat? He's almost human again._ Macen thought to himself, _What's different?_

_Don't ask me,_ T'Kir thoughtcast into his mind, _I've got no bloody idea._

Macen decided that wasn't much help and turned to Kend once again, "Well Colonel, what's the story?"

Kend studied Macen for a moment, gauging him, "What makes you think you can trust me?"

"From everything that occurred, I'd say you were out of the loop." Macen decided, "You've already followed your conscience once. Do you have the courage to follow it again?"

"As long as it doesn't lead to treason." Kend rebutted.

"And why would it automatically lead to treason?" Macen wondered.

"It is improper to inform on one's superiors." Kend recited, dredging up some piece of social dogma.

"You do if they're corrupt." Macen retorted, "Who is Riekann responsible to?"

"Every citizen and soldier is responsible to their superior officer." Kend described her planet's social structure, "The Chancellor, as the highest echelon, is responsible to the voters who control his or her fate."

"Is Riekann working with the pirates?" Macen bluntly wondered.

Kend winced. After a rather painful internal struggle, she spoke, "When the pirates came they 'beamed' into the Reichstag and demanded to see our highest ranking military leaders. The presiding Marshal, the Kommandants of the Planetary and Stellar Forces and their deputies attended this meeting. Only Riekann survived. He assumed the role of Marshal and the other positions have been unoccupied at Riekann's request."

"The Officer Korps of the Stellar Forces was decimated by the pirates in our initial attacks against them." Kend revealed, "I am the senior officer of the Stellar Forces and only that by pure chance. I should have been killed along with the bulk of my squadron but my wingman took the shot intended for me and I escorted the survivors back to Ekos."

"How did you finally manage to capture one of their ships?" Macen asked.

"Our scientists have been reverse engineering the technology we purchased from the Ferengi." Kend explained, "Most of it is military tech and we were able to start manufacturing it even as we employed the industrial replicators we purchased to reproduce the items that were too advanced for our manufacturers."

"Why didn't the pirates take out the replicators?" Macen had to ask.

"They are secreted in massive caves two hundred kilometres to the east of the capital." Kend answered.

"Aren't you afraid telling me this will end up in the destruction of your military?" Macen wondered.

"I think that if you'd wanted to eradicate our remaining forces you would have done so by now." Kend replied.

Macen shook his head, "That's hardly conclusive."

"You could have killed either Sergeant Eloish or Private Jirnal at any moment of your choosing. You held off and waited for a peaceful resolution." Kend recited.

"There was still an unnecessary death." Macen grimly pointed out.

"That's the clincher." Kend argued, "You see the death as something unnecessary and you regret it. That's not the attitude of a mercenary raider."

"Hey Boss," T'Kir pulled Prentiss out of her station's seat and plopped down at OPS, "Someone down there just lit up a subspace transmitter. It's getting bounced off a relay at the edge of the system."

"Can you trace it?" Macen asked.

"Already have." T'Kir activated the main viewer. On it was displayed a city block on Ekos. A red dot indicated where the signal was originating from.

"Where is this?" Macen wondered.

"The capitol." T'Kir answered, "It's the Chancellery not the Reichstag building."

"It's Riekann's office." Kend sadly confirmed.

"Do you have the signal canned?" Macen enquired.

"I've got it recorded but it ain't gonna do us much good." T'Kir reported.

Macen was shocked, "Why?"

"The encryption is good." T'Kir explained, "It's damned good. I've rarely seen a code this complex and I've got to admit that I've cracked even fewer than that."

"Could one of your patented code breakers slice it?" Macen was getting worried.

"Maybe." T'Kir acknowledged the possibility of defeat, "Even if my best baby can crack this it would take less time and effort to get the information straight from the source."

"Looks like we're going to the Chancellery." Macen grinned, "Any chance you can find out where that transmission is headed?"

"Just gotta query the relay." T'Kir was pleased to have a task she knew she could complete.

Macen moved over to the command chair and switched the intercom to shipwide address, "All sections report in."

"Kort reporting in." came the Klingon's gruff voice. Macen smiled.

"Macen here." Macen replied, "What's up?"

"Can I leave this infernal box?" Kort thundered.

"Feel free." Macen assured him, "You might want to check the Mess and see if Rosemont is still there. If not, you have my permission to find him and chastise him."

"I shall break him." Kort growled.

"Don't do anything you can't repair in a few moments." Macen advised.

"Pity." Kort grumbled as he signed off.

Macen winked at T'Kir and she reported that Daggit was checking in. Macen activated the intercom, "How are you doing in the holds?"

"We've rounded them up." Daggit's voice was laced with good humour, "As it turns out your admonishment to keep lethal force to a minimum was unnecessary. And, as it turned out, Dracas wasn't the aggressive one this time out."

"Was it Radil?" Macen wondered if her incapacitating one of the Ekosians earlier was indicative of larger issues.

"No and before you guess that it was me I'll let you know that it was Commander Riker."

"Riker?" Macen couldn't believe it, "How did Tom end up with you clearing the holds?"

"Well, the Commander was kind of livid after I stunned the Ekosian that had pinned him up against the wall. The young idiot had pilfered Riker's phaser and held him there while thumbing through the phaser's power settings. When he got it back the Commander asked to come along with me. I didn't see any reason to turn him down."

"As long as it didn't provoke an incident." Macen sighed in relief, "Tell Tom this counts as his semi-annual planetside assignment."

"I will but I'm also certain that he will protest." Daggit chuckled.

"Too bad." Macen retorted and cut the line.

Macen turned back towards T'Kir, "Any luck with the relay?"

"I've spoofed its security." T'Kir suddenly blew a pink, elastic bubble. It popped and she pulled the substance back in with her tongue, "Now I just gotta retrieve its memory files."

She returned her whole focus to her screens and she absently chewed the substance in her mouth and blew another bubble…with the same results. Grace noticed that Macen was staring at his wife and she smiled. She closed the distance between them and conspiratorially lowered her voice.

"You don't have to be so concerned." Grace couldn't keep the tinge of laughter out of her voice, "It's just gum."

"Gum?" Macen asked.

"Alternately referred to as bubblegum or chewing gum." Grace explained, "I gave her some during one of our watches together and she said it helped her concentrate. I replicated her an entire pack."

"Is that a good thing?" Macen wondered, "What's it taste like?"

"Whatever you want it to taste like." Grace revealed, "Mine tastes like chocolate fudge and T'Kir's tastes like watermelon."

Macen smiled at that. Watermelons were T'Kir's hidden addiction. A tramp freighter with a hold full of ripened watermelons had diverted to Shial when she was a child. The freighter captain had divested himself of a spoiling product and the children of the colonists had learned to crave the juicy fruit.

"Okay, I got it." T'Kir announced. Silently, she revelled in Macen's protective attention. "The signal was relayed to the Meirkus Conglomeration. Where it's going after it gets there is anyone's guess. I could wrest it out of this relay but it'd damage the core processor."

"Leave it." Macen sighed, "We'll get what we need from Marshal Reikann."

Kend winced, "Must you?"

Macen's eyes bored into hers, "Yes."

Kend let loose of a forlorn sigh and she shrugged, "How can I help?"

"Are you sure about this?" Macen asked.

Kend nodded with more assurance, "Yes. If Reikann has been co-opted than he needs to be dealt with."

"He will be." Macen assured her, "Trust me."

"I have no choice at this point." Kend remarked miserably.

"I can only say so much to reassure you, Colonel." Macen pointed out, "Now I need to get my people moving and you need to return to your craft."

"Why?" Kend had to ask.

"You need to instruct the pilot to ferry the boarding party to the surface and that you'll be returning to the surface with us." Macen instructed.

A sly smile appeared on Kend's face, "A clever gambit, Captain."

"We try." Macen quipped, "Now get going."

Kend exited the bridge and Macen turned to fact his crew. Staring directly at Prentiss he asked, "Is everyone all right?"

"I'm fine." Prentiss huffed. Behind her T'Kir was waving her hands back and forth and shaking her head while mouthing the word "No".

"I know what you're doing." Prentiss growled without turning around, "I'm fine. _Really_."

"We'll have to take your word for it for now." Macen conceded, "When we have time I want you to submit to a psychological assessment."

"You don't have a trained counsellor aboard." Prentiss scoffed.

"Excuse me." Danan smirked, "You'd better do better research on your suspects next time. One of my previous hosts was a licensed psychologist in private practice. Kort is a certified psychiatrist. Together we're a potent combination."

"A _previous_ host, you say?" Prentiss looked like the proverbial cat with the canary.

"I've recently become certified in my own right." Danan trumped her, "Check with Starfleet Mental Health Services if you don't want to take my word for it."

Macen grinned as he tapped his comm badge, "Macen to Riker."

"Riker here."

"Round up the prisoners, living, dead, conscious or other wise and deposit them on their boarding craft." Macen ordered.

"Why?" Riker was just a tad petulant.

"Because I've got a plan." Macen revealed.

"Lord have mercy." Riker groaned.

"You haven't even heard the plan." Macen said defensively.

"I don't need to." Riker retorted, "If it's anything like the plan to let these trigger happy buffoons aboard then we're going to get shot at again."

"Not necessarily." Macen replied.

"Brin, _all _of your plans involve us getting shot at." Riker complained, "You're just lucky we're so good natured about it."

Macen felt a pang of guilt, "I promise that there's almost no chance of anyone coming under fire this time."

"All right." Riker conceded, "We're on our way."

* * *

After the Ekosians had been returned to their transport, including the ill fated Sergeant Eloish, Macen ordered Dracas and Kort to the bridge to monitor the situation while everyone else was to take a break. Kend was offered a chance to meet Rosemont and to assess his potential as a military advisor. Everyone else was given a thirty minute break.

Kort watched Dracas at work at the Tactical station. He was focused, diligent, and very cheerful. Seeing as how Dracas had been the picture of despair upon his arrival from Earth, it was a dramatic change. Kort said as much.

Dracas was actually embarrassed. Kort wondered if the reluctant Nova Roman was finally going to open up. Much to Kort's surprise, Dracas began to address his question.

"To be frank, I do not know how to explain." Dracas admitted.

"Just relating the salient points makes it easier." Kort urged.

"While on Earth I met someone." Dracas looked like a worm on the hook. Kort had to give him credit, he was trying. "We went on something called a date. Whatever it was called it was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. My…friend…and I seemed to share so many things. It made me feel as if something besides duty could enter my life."

Kort smiled, "Have you called him since then?"

Dracas actually smiled, "Daggit told me to. I now have a standing invitation for another 'date' whenever we can meet."

Kort chuckled, "I'm happy for you. I truly am. Take your friend up on his offer soon before he gets distracted by anyone else."

Dracas' eyes went wide, "I hadn't considered that."

"You'll manage." Kort reassured him, "You always manage everything else. You'll surely rise to the challenge this time as well."

"Speaking of private lives," Dracas switched topics, "how goes your pursuit of Hayley Galloway."

Now it was time for Kort to squirm, "I wouldn't say that I am pursuing Hayley…"

"But you want to." Dracas finished for him.

"Yes." Kort sighed, "But she has shown no sign of attraction to me. She merely wants to be friends."

"And you desire more?" Dracas enquired.

Kort nodded, "Of course I want more. Wouldn't you want a woman like that?"

Dracas grinned at Kort and Kort shook his head, "Of course you wouldn't. You do get the gist of what I mean?"

"Of course." Dracas chuckled as he ran another sensor sweep, "The question is: can you live with just being her friend?"

"I will have to." Kort said grimly.

* * *

Grace sat in the Mess nursing a cup of tea and some biscuits. Prentiss sat in a corner curiously jotting down notes on a padd. In the centre of the area Kend interviewed Rosemont. Macen had suggested having Rosemont work as a military advisor in order to work off his debt to society. Kend was apprehensive but the longer that she spoke with Rosemont, the warmer her reception was.

Radil monitored all the activity in the room. She may have been on break but the Security Chief in her refused to allow her to completely relax. Besides, discounting Kort, Dracas, and the SID members in this room, everyone else was spending time with loved ones whether live or via subspace comms. Grace no longer had loved ones to contact.

Her last discussion with Ian Delaney had resulted in the dissolving of their romantic partnership. It had been amicable and they were still friends. They had just grown apart with all the time away from one another and their own individual growth. Grace felt at peace about it.

As she had mentioned to Macen, she needed to find someone who could embrace the totality of what she represented. She didn't know where she'd find someone like that but she knew that she could. In the meantime, she could take a page from T'Kir's past and date around.

She sipped her tea and let its warmth fill her. Grace decided that she was looking forward to her next romantic adventure. Until recently, she'd never been free to pursue men. Now that she was she intended to make the most of it.

Across the room, Radil kept a wary eye on Rosemont and Kend. At the periphery of her vision she studied Prentiss. The investigator had found something to report on and she was doing so with a vengeance. Radil idly wondered what the aftermath of her shooting Prentiss would be.

She shrugged that thought aside and reflected on her own personal crisis. What should she do about Abby? Her time alone had proven one thing to her: she was in love with Abby Collins. She also knew she didn't want to pursue that relationship.

Although her anguished heart cried out in rebellion, Radil had chosen to let her love remain an unrequited one. It wasn't just that Abby was a subordinate officer. It was that Radil had already made this choice once in her life. Whether to pursue the woman she loved or find solace in the arms of a man. Women had broken her heart into bits and men at least lived up to her expectations…which were pretty low. It was all a matter of variables and which ones could be controlled.

Radil felt a cold fist closing in on her heart and she embraced it. Her life was _hers_. She'd create her own happiness and the rest of the galaxy be damned. Having settled that issue, she returned to her monitoring.

* * *

Parva's face appeared on the screen and Daggit's heart melted. Parva lit up with joy. She looked vital and healthy.

"Rab!" she squealed, "I didn't expect you to call so soon today. Has something happened?"

"We met the enemy." Daggit reported, "Obviously we beat them."

"So you're okay?" Parva grew concerned.

"I'm fine." Daggit assured her, "_We're_ all fine."

"I hate being here while you're there." Parva confessed, "Being part of the team is the one thing out of my old life that I miss."

"Do you want to serve aboard the _Obsidian_ as a maintenance tech?" Daggit hoped.

Parva giggled, "I can't silly. It wasn't just my heart keeping me in the dirt."

"You mean on the ground?" Daggit gently prompted.

Parva smiled, "Yeah, that. I can't pass the test. At the headquarters I have time to look something up if I get stuck. In space, during a fight or something, I wouldn't have time."

Sadly, Daggit's heart acknowledged the truth of her words, "Parva, any time you want me to quit just say so and I will."

Parva laughed, "What would you do with yourself?"

"Next year, Macen's opening an Security Alliance academy." Daggit revealed, "He's going train his own crews and take on extra ships. I've already been asked to develop course curriculum. It's just an easy step to become the instructor of those courses."

Parva beamed, "Do it Rab!"

"I'll talk to Macen once this mission is over." Daggit promised.

"We can be together." Parva clapped her hands.

"I love you, Babe." Daggit confessed.

"I love you too." Parva bubbled, "You stay safe so you can become a teacher."

Daggit saluted, "Yes, ma'am."

"Y'know how the doctor told me to stay home until tomorrow?" Parva coyly asked.

"Yes?" Daggit saw something lurking in the future and he was growing wary.

"Well, today I went shopping and I found the cutest…"

* * *

"So," Danan said in a neutral voice as she examined the bruise on Riker's forehead, "you decided to play hero."

"It wasn't like that." Riker countered, "Rab and the others needed my help. They were outnumbered and…owww!"

Danan examined the tongue depressor she'd just used to thwack Riker's bruise, "Handy little things."

Riker gingerly rubbed his head, "You'd better watch it. If Kort discovers what you're doing with his equipment he'll…"

"Remembering who you're talking about?" Danan said with a smirk, "Kort would put you in traction for arguing with me."

Riker subsided, "What is it you want to say?"

"Rab, Jenrya, and Joachim are professionals. They don't need to baby-sit an amateur while detaining five armed soldiers." Danan pointed out, "If you need a less cerebral reason consider this: We've just firmed up our relationship with an honest to God mutual commitment. I don't want to be left alone just because you threw your life away on some stupid stunt."

Riker absorbed this and then his demeanour became one of contrition, "I'm sorry, Lees. It was stupid. It won't happen again."

"I'll hold you to that Tom Riker." Danan kissed him and then wrapped her arms around him.

_I could get used to this._ Riker thought.

* * *

Macen and T'Kir were locked in an embrace. They separated and T'Kir stared into his eyes, "Thanks for not getting dead."

"There was only a slight chance that he would shoot me." Macen replied, "Prentiss was the one in real danger."

"Hold on buster." T'Kir argued, "I could read his mind. You were an equal opportunity target too."

"I stand corrected." Macen said, "But with Rab there, the risk was minimal."

"Minimalise this, damn you." T'Kir's voice was rising, "He was going to shoot you. The decision had been made. If you hadn't distracted him by saying Rab's name you would be dead."

T'Kir stood wagging a finger at him, "I don't know how I could deal with that so don't make me find out."

Macen took hold of her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead, "I'll be more careful."

"Promise?" T'Kir was almost plaintive.

"Yes." Macen wrapped his arms around her, "I promise."

T'Kir snuggled him, "Good."

"Ready to transport to the surface?" Macen wondered.

"D'we gotta?" T'Kir inquired.

"`Fraid so." Macen replied.

"How long until we go?" T'Kir asked.

"Twenty minutes." Macen answered.

"Just hold me until then. `Kay?" T'Kir requested.

Macen gave her a squeeze, "Anything."


	18. Chapter 18

The team, excluding Riker and Grace, assembled in the transporter room. Riker was operating the ship and Danan, after she finished manning the transporter, was staying with them to operate the sensors. Macen wasn't expecting trouble. They had Kend's support and the troop transport full of battered boarders would be landing at any time. Their testimony should help dissuade any thoughts of a violent greeting.

_Then again, _Macen mused, _they could just cut us down where we stand._

_ Not very funny._ T'Kir grumped

Macen, T'Kir, Daggit and Kend stepped up to the transporter pads. Radil, Dracas, Kort, and Rosemont would follow as the second wave. Danan selected her target and activated the transporter. The first wave dematerialised and was reincorporated in front of the Chancellery's entrance.

The second team stepped up and were deposited near the first group. The sound of heavy boots could be heard echoing throughout the Chancellery. Kend stepped out in front of Macen's team and held up her hands. Seeing her uniform, the wary defenders paused.

"Freeze!" a Waffen SS Major barked. Cradling his phaser rifle across his chest, he approached Kend.

"Greeting Colonel." The Major said very politely, "Can you identify yourself and state for the record how you came to be here in the company of aliens suspected of being assassins?"

"And just who levelled that charge?" Kend asked.

"Marshal Riekann." The Major replied, "He stated that the alien leader informed the Marshal of his intentions to kill him."

"He _informed_ the Marshal of his plans to kill him?" Kend was incredulous, "Tell me Major, if you were planning on assassinating someone would you tell them beforehand?"

"Er…no." the Major replied.

"It would be counter-productive, yes?" Kend hammered her point home, "Besides, I have seen their technology personally. They are even more advanced than the Ferengi. What's to stop them from just appearing in the Marshal's office and killing him in secret?"

The Major squirmed, "I don't know."

Kend leaned into him, "Nothing Major! That's what."

Kend took a breath and the Major dared hope that she was done. Sadly for him, she was not, "And why kill the Marshal and ignore the Chancellor? Wouldn't it be more productive to kill the planetary leader and set up a puppet?"

The Major held up his hands, "All right, Colonel. You win."

"Very astute Major…" Kend waited for the blank to be filled.

He clicked his heels together and saluted, "Major Gall Effrit, at your disposal."

Kend returned the salute, "Colonel Jorra Kend at yours."

"Kend?" Effrit repeated, "But I know of you! You salvaged what was left of our space forces when the marauders wiped us out. You planned the counter-attack and you recently captured four of the pirate scum's ships."

"I captured three of those ships thanks to these people." Kend revealed, "They're friends and the Marshal tried to have them killed."

"Why?" Effrit was stunned.

"They have uncovered evidence that suggests that Riekann is working with the marauders." Kend divulged, "They wish to question him and see if there is truth behind these electronic whispers."

"It can be done under certain circumstances." Effrit offered.

"Name your terms." Kend replied.

"No more than two of the aliens will be allowed in the Marshal's presence, "You and I will accompany them to guarantee the Marshal's safety."

"Done!" Kend shook his hand, "Let me inform my comrades."

Kend returned to the group to find T'Kir conspiratorially whispering in Macen's ear. When she approached, Macen grinned, "We accept. Excellent negotiating tactic."

"How did you…?" Kend trailed off.

T'Kir curtsied, "It's all in the ears, baby."

Kend's eyes widened as she gazed at T'Kir's curved lobes with new appreciation, "Marvellous."

"Ain't I just?" T'Kir teased.

Macen intervened, "I need to ask you something before her head gets too big. Will Major Effrit's troops be taking charge of Mr. Rosemont?"

"Good question." Kend frowned, "I'll explain the situation to him and have him give me a decision."

Kend hurried off. Macen explained the situation to his team. Everyone wanted to be the second person in the investigative duo. Macen disappointed them all by telling them that T'Kir would accompany him.

"Told you." Radil said to Dracas.

"Out of all of you, only T'Kir is part of the crew's investigative team. I need her." Macen explained his decision to the disappointed SID team.

Effrit and two of his men came to collect Rosemont. Finding Rosemont hands already bound by a cellulose zip tie, they marched him off to their closest detention cell. Meanwhile, Effrit exchanged introductions with Macen and T'Kir.

Effrit saluted them. T'Kir nudged Macen in the ribs with her elbow. He sketched off a quick salute in reply.

"The Colonel tells me that you are largely responsible for our enemies fleeing. I welcome any one who accomplishes this task." Effrit enthusiastically confessed.

"My entire crew was responsible." Macen informed him, "It wasn't just my wife and I."

"May I greet them all?" Effrit asked.

Macen smiled, "Feel free."

"Careful, Captain." Kend advised in a low voice, "His enthusiasm may be a ruse."

Macen chuckled, "It's no ruse, Colonel. I guarantee it."

Kend frowned, "How can you be so certain?"

"Among other things, I'm an empath." Macen revealed, "I can read his emotions."

Kend was startled. She looked to T'Kir, "And you?"

"I'm a telepath." She said simply. Too much information would overwhelm Kend.

Kend nodded towards the SID team, "And them?"

"Just regular Joes." T'Kir smirked, "Same as you."

"I…see." Kend understood the gist of T'Kir's statement if not the basic words.

"Effrit's returning." Macen murmured. Everyone dropped what they were doing and waited for the Major.

"Shall we be off?" he asked.

"You're dreading confronting Riekann because you already think he's guilty." T'Kir said to Effrit. It wasn't a question.

"How did you know?" Effrit's voice faltered and then his eyes went wide and he aimed his rifle at T'Kir, "You! You were in my head."

Kend laughed. T'Kir had told a joke and she found it funny. Effrit glared at Kend, "You knew about this?"

Kend nodded, "I knew but I had not experienced it until now. Come now Major. It was a good pun."

Effrit slowly lowered his rifle. A grin slowly crept across his face, "I guess it was at that."

Kend noticed Macen returning his phaser to its holster but she didn't mention anything to Effrit. Returning her focus to T'Kir, she asked, "Why did you do that?"

T'Kir shrugged, "I'm gonna be in Riekann's mind. He's gonna act funny. I wanted you to know what was going on _before _it happened."

"Good idea." Effrit begrudgingly admitted.

"Of course it was." T'Kir beamed, "It was my idea."

Macen cleared his throat, "Can we expect any future resistance?"

"No." Effrit answered, "Colonel Jeerk personally commands the Chancellor's guard. As second in command I oversee all other security concerns. There are two crack troops guarding the Marshal's office but they are directly under my command. Their loyalty is unwavering."

"I hope so." Macen said, "After all, Riekann is your nominal superior. Their loyalty may be to him."

Effrit considered the possibility, "It could happen. Forewarned is forearmed. I shall be ready."

"After you then." Macen smiled, "After all, we don't know the way."

* * *

"I wonder how far they have to travel before they reach the Marshal's office." Kort wondered.

"Have you noticed that Major Effrit's troops are just standing there studying us?" Daggit asked.

"They are sizing us up as prey." Dracas commented.

"I agree." Daggit said.

"Then let's do something about it." Radil suggested and walked over to the opposition, "Hi. My name is Radil Jenrya."

The officer in charge presented himself, "I am Lieutenant Hap Jire. I did not catch your rank."

"I don't have one." Radil replied, "Sorry."

"But you and your comrades are armed." Jire observed.

"We're just a freighter crew." Radil explained, "We carry weapons in the advent of pirate boarding parties. We're not invaders."

Radil could see the tensions lines around his eyes relax. She smiled as Jire asked his next question, "Would it be permissible to meet your crew?"

Radil laughed, "Come on over. We're dying to meet you."

* * *

The mixed Ekosian/SID team entered the final corridor. Effrit's troops could be seen standing post on either side of Riekann's door. As they approached, the guard's responded by aiming their rifles at them.

"Halt!" one of the two privates, one Jaspe Holz, demanded, "Major, you know that no unauthorised personnel are allowed to see the Marshal."

"That's correct, Private Holz." Effrit replied, "These are a freighter captain and his officer that the Marshal has requested to see."

"Show me their papers." Private Gern Tom ordered.

"Private Tom!" Effrit barked, "They are strangers to our world. They do not have papers."

"Then they don't see the Marshal." Holz decided.

"They have an appointment to see the Marshal." Effrit sternly insisted.

"Then let's see their papers." Tom replied.

Holz suddenly stiffened. He turned and aimed his rifle at Tom. Tom was understandably confused.

"Jaspe?" Tom asked, "What are you doing?"

Macen whispered to Effrit and Kend, "I suggest you disarm them now."

They leapt into action. As soon as Holz was disarmed, he returned to normal. He was befuddled and wanted to know why Tom was glaring at him. Upon hearing the story, he protested his innocence.

Macen stunned them both. Effrit was concerned over the well being of his men. Macen smiled, "I used the stun setting. The rifles you bought from the Ferengi should have a similar function."

Effrit examined his rifle with burgeoning respect, "So that's what that setting is for."

Macen turned to T'Kir, who was visibly strained, "Good job. Are you all right?"

She leaned up against the wall and waved his concerns off, "That used to be sooo easy. It takes a lot outta a girl nowadays. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"You're sure?" Macen double checked.

"I'll be right behind you." T'Kir gave him a thumb's up.

"I prefer you being right beside me." Macen admitted.

"You just want to be able to see me in case of trouble." T'Kir accused.

"How can I bear to let a gorgeous creature like yourself out of my sight?" he asked.

T'Kir perked up, "Okay. You win."

"It's about time." Macen grinned.

Effrit approached them, "If you are fit to continue, we shall proceed."

"I'm fine!" T'Kir raised her voice as she springboarded off the wall, "See what you did? Now the natives think I'm helpless."

"I'm certain you'll prove them wrong." Macen encouraged her with a smile.

"You'd better say that buster." T'Kir warned.

Effrit was busy inputting codes into the door lock sealing Riekann's office. T'Kir came up beside him, "Problem?"

"The code has been changed." Effrit said in frustration.

T'Kir shoved him aside, "Let me." She removed her microcomputer from its pouch on her utility belt. Next, she removed a set of connections from the neighbouring pouch. Testing them, she found one that fit the lock's data receptacle. Fitting the connector to her computer, she plugged it into the lock. Seconds later, it was cycling through alphanumeric permutations.

The data processing took 7.4 seconds to complete. At the end of that time, the lock accepted the code and then Effrit opened the door and entered the office. Riekann looked up from where he stood. Riekann was down on one knee stuffing papers into a valise. He looked apprehensive and scared.

"Major, what are you doing here?" Riekann demanded as he rose to his feet.

"I'm escorting a party that's here to see you." Effrit replied.

"I am not accepting…" Riekann's eyes went wide and his face lost all colour as Kend stepped into the room. He fumbled about and eventually drew his sidearm. Aiming the Ferengi phaser at Kend, he started to accuse Effrit, "She's a traitor! She's in league with the alien assassins. You brought her here…you must be a traitor too!"

"Sounds like you're trying to validate a very poor decision." Macen said as he came up from behind Kend.

"You!" there was a feverish gleam in Riekann's eyes as he aimed the phaser with both hands at Macen, "You should be dead. Why can't you be dead?"

"It looks like you're leaving." Macen observed, "Going somewhere nice?"

"What do you know about it?" Riekann retorted.

Macen stepped aside to allow T'Kir access. She stood centre stage and she calmly spoke to Riekann in a soothing voice, "They said they were coming but they're not."

"How can you know that?" Riekann hysterically demanded.

"Because I have someone aboard our ship running sensor sweeps so sensitive that they can look beyond this star system. They can see much, much further than that and no cavalry is on its way."

"You're lying!" Riekann began to sob and he lowered his weapon.

"Who controls you?" T'Kir asked, "The pirate chieftain or someone higher up?"

Riekann was still crying but he struggled to answer, "Someone higher up."

"How much higher?" Macen gently asked.

"He said he's the Chairman of the Meirkus Conglomeration." Riekann attempted a feeble laugh, "He said that encompasses dozens of worlds."

"It does." Macen confirmed.

"He was going to give me one." Riekann almost whispered, "One to rule."

"How did you contact him?" Macen asked.

Riekann's eyes flicked towards a cabinet beside the door. T'Kir went to it. It opened up to reveal a subspace transmitter.

"What's its cipher?" T'Kir asked. She waited a second then smiled, "Got it. Thanks."

Riekann was horrified and T'Kir yelled out, "Brin!"

Macen went for his phaser but before he could stun Riekann, the Marshal pressed the barrel of his weapon to his head and fired. He collapsed to the floor. Macen checked his vitals and grimly shook his head.

"Too little too late." He said in disgust, "I wasn't fast enough."

Effrit and Kend were recovering from their shock. Kend shook her head, "Never fear, Captain. None of us were fast enough. To do such a thing…"

"Now what?" Effrit asked, already slipping into damage control mode, "What can I tell the Chancellor?"

"Tell him what you heard Riekann say." Macen replied, "He was in the employ of the pirates and their master."

Effrit nodded, "If you will excuse me, I will reset the guards to this post and make my report to Colonel Jeerk personally. Colonel Kend, if you would be so kind as to assist me?"

Kend nodded, "But of course."

Effrit turned to Macen and T'Kir at the transmitter, "I will have to ask you to leave."

Macen nodded, "Of course. My crew and I will be returning to our ship. We'll be in orbit if you need us."

"Yes," Kend sobered up, "there may be questions."

Macen smiled, "We'll be happy to co-operate."

"Will you require an escort?" Effrit asked.

"Nope." T'Kir tapped her comm badge, "Yo! Lees! Two to beam up."

A few minutes later, the pair dematerialised. Effrit shook his head in wonder, "We need to get that technology."

"Agreed" Kend nodded, "However, it makes one feel incredibly strange."

"How so?"

"First you feel as though you've been peeled away layer by layer until you fade away into nothingness and then you are reconstructed by painting one coat after the next." Kend elaborated, "It's rather disconcerting."

"I can imagine." Effrit heartily agreed and then he flipped open his communicator and requested troops.

* * *

Macen and T'Kir rematerialised to find Riker manning the transporter controls. Macen grinned, "Where's Lees?"

Riker chuckled, "She's on the bridge having flashbacks of when she was your 1st Officer."

"Gotta go." T'Kir called out as she exited the room, "Hannah's gonna need consoling."

Riker was surprised, "What's was that about?"

Macen's grin grew wicked, "Well, Lees used to ride T'Kir pretty hard and since Hannah is T'Kir's protégé in the 'acting human' department, it's a safe bet sparks are flying."

The controls chimed and Riker checked, "Here comes the rest of the group."

Daggit, Radil, Kort, and Dracas reappeared in the flesh and all looked none the worse for wear. Riker frowned, "This isn't what I expected."

Daggit smiled, "We were having quite the cultural exchange and it's all because of Jenrya."

"Really?" Macen brightened, "Jenrya, can you tell me about later when we all have more time."

"What're we doing now?" Radil asked.

"You're going to General Quarters while T'Kir and I do some research." Macen shrugged, "It may be a false alarm but you never can tell how the Ekosian Chancellor is going to react to the Marshal's death."

"Captain!" Radil scolded.

"I didn't do it." Macen's hands were in the air.

"All right," Riker bellowed, "enough dawdling. Let's move like we have a purpose."

Macen grabbed Riker, "Send T'Kir to my office."

"Right." Riker agreed and then departed from the transporter.

Macen sighed, _Never enough to do around here._


	19. Chapter 19

T'Kir bounded into Macen's office, "How come we're going to war?"

"It's just a precautionary measure." Macen explained, "If they want to retaliate because of Riekann's death they'll find us ready."

"Okay." T'Kir bubbled, "Good thinking."

"Thanks for your approval." Macen dryly remarked, "My plan can now proceed."

T'Kir dutifully stuck out her tongue and blew him a raspberry. Macen grinned with impish delight, "Done?"

"Yeah, for now." T'Kir grumbled and then asked, "What am I doing here?"

"You're here to operate the computer." Macen replied, "I need a verified computer genius to run different searches for me."

T'Kir plopped down behind the comp/comm and cracked her knuckles, "Okay."

She then suspiciously peered at Macen, "How come I gotta do this? You're proficient with research systems."

"Federation systems." Macen corrected, "I want to look at the Meirkus Conglomeration's datanets."

T'Kir wore a naughty smile, "Oho. We're going fishing for someone's dirty laundry."

Macen grinned, "Close enough. Can you do it?"

"Of course I can do it." T'Kir huffed, "The question is: can we afford it?"

"Afford what?" Macen leaned down close to T'Kir's ear.

"We'll have to subscribe to Meirkus' datanet service provider. We can use corporate funds and establish an Outbound Ventures account."

"Not a problem." Macen eagerly agreed.

"What if Drake refuses to reimburse us?" T'Kir was piqued by the idea.

"It's our account. If she doesn't pay she can't use it." Macen began to nuzzle T'Kir's neck.

"Stop that." T'Kir giggled, "I'll never get any work done that way."

"You'll just have to persevere through the pain." Macen replied.

"We'll see who's in pain once I finish here, spy boy." T'Kir laughed and went to work.

* * *

Danan manned OPS and operated the sensors from there, "Still no signs of any other vessels inbound for the system."

"Any word from Ekos?" Riker wondered.

"No." Danan shook her head, "They're staying quiet…wait a minute! There's comm activity across the board. _Every_one's talking now."

"Look sharp people." Riker urged, "If anything is going to happen then it'll happen in the next few minutes." Riker activated the shipwide intercom, "Attention, we are expecting formal communication from the planet's surface within the minute. Stay cool and alert. Out."

* * *

In Engineering, Dracas and Radil quietly redirected power flow to maximise the weapons' output. In Sickbay Kort returned to finishing up a letter to Hayley Galloway. Meanwhile, in the Captain's Office, Riker's announcement found Macen on the floor with T'Kir lying atop him. She was hungrily kissing him.

Given a moment to catch his breath, Macen said, "Wow!"

"I told you to stop doing that." T'Kir purred.

"Stop what?" Macen laughed, "I tried a half dozen things out on you."

"All of them." T'Kir blurted, "None of them. It was the intent more than the specific actions that did it."

Macen caressed her cheek, "So you'd like me to do it again sometime?"

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his hand, "Oh Elements, yes!"

Macen grinned, "Good to know."

"Where did you come up with that…that…?" T'Kir wondered.

"Thank Rab." Macen chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her torso and drew her in closer, "He was explaining how Parva had been bringing him closer to his long lost humanity and I asked for an example. Parva had taught him these techniques. Of course he could only describe them and leave them up to my imagination."

"Thank the Elements you have a vivid imagination." T'Kir laughed in delight.

Riker's announcement came on and Macen frowned, "Nuts. Time to get busy, dear."

"I was getting busy." T'Kir pouted.

"A different kind of busy." Macen clarified.

T'Kir pushed herself off of him, "Why didn't ya say so?"

"Just going daft in my old age." Macen quipped as he rose to his feet.

"Heavens forefend." T'Kir teased.

"Just wait and see," Macen warned, "it'll happen someday."

"But I'll be dead and gone by then." T'Kir pointed out.

"I can never win." Macen grumped.

"Just keep believing it." T'Kir advised.

"Riker to Captain Macen." Came over the intercom and Macen sat down behind the comp/comm and hit the intercom button, "Macen here."

"We have a signal from the Chancellery." Riker said.

"Have they said what's about?" Macen wondered.

Riker shook his head, "All I know is that they want to talk to you and no one else but you."

"I'll take care of it." Macen assured him, "Thanks Tom."

Macen activated the comm unit and a dour image met him. It was all the more startling for its historic relevance. The man was a dead ringer a clean shaven Adolph Hitler. Macen was momentarily taken aback as his mind absorbed the image and put it in its context.

"Captain Macen, I presume?" the Chancellor had a deep, husky voice. _Unlike_ Hitler.

Macen shook off the last of his surprise, "Yes, Chancellor. I'm Captain Brin Macen. How can I assist you?"

"My name is Davod Balsat." The Chancellor revealed, "I have questions regarding Gelt Riekann's death. Would you be available to appear before my office and settle these matters?"

"When would you like us there?" Macen asked.

"Please arrive at the Chancellery in one hour." Balsat requested, "You should be able to find it."

The screen went black and T'Kir put her hands on her hips, "Was he sassing us?"

"Yup." Macen concurred, "I believe he was."

"Why the abuse?" T'Kir lamented as she "swooned" onto his lap, "Where's the love?"

"Hold that thought." Macen hit his comm badge, "Tom? You can stand down now."

"There won't be a war?" Riker's voice sounded hopeful.

"No wars, just a trial." Macen informed him.

"You and T'Kir?" Riker guessed.

"You've got it." Macen confirmed.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn, and damn." Riker bitterly recited, "Someone's going to get shot."

"Let's hope not." Macen chuckled, "We'll be beaming down in an hour."

"What do you want everyone to do until then?" Riker enquired.

"Relax as best they can." Macen said, "We'll be in here. If anyone has any questions send `em our way."

"Got it." Riker agreed, "Anything else?"

"Nope." Macen said, "Out."

"So, no nookie?" T'Kir idly wondered.

Macen grinned, "Love the thought, hate the timing."

"So back to the datanets?" T'Kir asked.

"You read my mind." Macen joked.

"Didn't have to." T'Kir pouted, "You can be rather predictable at times."

Macen rolled his eyes, "Just punch in a search for the leader of the Meirkus Conglomeration, okay?"

Using their newly created account, T'Kir and Macen soon lost themselves in the information streaming back to them.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Macen and T'Kir still shared a chair and had arrived at one inescapable conclusion: they couldn't escape going to Mityr. The door chimed and Macen verbally unlocked the door. Riker and Danan entered in carrying trays of food.

"We thought you could probably use a bite." Danan explained. As she sat her tray down on the desk, T'Kir extricated herself from Macen's lap. Danan leaned in to conspiratorially ask, "Anything naughty going on?"

T'Kir snorted, "I should live to be so lucky."

"Perseverance is the key, my dear." Danan advised, "Now eat up."

"Found anything out?" Riker asked.

"Yep." Macen replied, "We're going to Mityr."

"Why Mityr?" Danan wondered, "It's pretty out of the way."

"Riekann was in communication with the Chairman of the Meirkus Conglomeration. The Chairman is one Bertram Sindis. Sindis is the nominal ruler of Mityr and is based there ergo…"

"We're going to Mityr." Was said by the chorus of four.

Macen reached out for the offered tray, "This looks good."

"Enjoy it while you can." Riker suggested, "You're due on planet in ten minutes."

Macen groaned, "I'd hoped they'd have gone away by now."

"Where would they go?" Riker chuckled, "They're on a planet."

"We're not." Macen rebutted, "We could disappear."

T'Kir grinned, "Best idea I've heard yet."

Riker glared at her. In reply she merely winked and took another bite of food. Danan laughed, "Did you really expect her to be contrite? Look who we're talking about."

Riker heaved a sigh, "Someday…"

"Someday you'll give up." Danan remarked, "She's an unrepentant cow. Leave it at that."

"Thank you." T'Kir said and then she frowned, "I think."

Danan smirked, "Don't mention it."

Riker went on to explain his plans for insuring Macen and T'Kir's safety. It involved beaming down the military personnel to predetermined points and having them stand by while Macen and T'Kir underwent questioning _with _their comms holding an open circuit. Macen sat his dish down and Riker smiled expectantly, "What do you think?"

"I like the part about the comms." Macen remarked, "We'll keep that. Everything else has to go. We're answering a few questions, not going to war."

"But if they try anything…?" Riker wanted to know.

"Then T'Kir and I will keep our heads down…" Macen began.

"Damn straight!" T'Kir enthused.

"…and you can send the cavalry in after us." Macen promised.

"All right." Riker conceded, unhappily, but he conceded.

* * *

Macen and T'Kir translated from energy into matter on the same steps that they had occupied during their last arrival. Major Effrit and two grim faced SS troops awaited them. Effrit's reaction to seeing them was a mild one.

Macen's empathy couldn't sense anything. He drew inwardly and glimpsed the currents. There were no notable probabilities regarding this meeting so he relaxed. T'Kir openly smiled and greeted Effrit with her usual lopsided grin and a "Hiya Major."

Effrit's lips finally twitched into something resembling a smile. The two guards accompanying him were befuddled. Apparently Macen and T'Kir weren't properly stricken with terror. Macen could feel T'Kir resisting the urge to initiate them in the ways of terror.

_Down girl_. He instructed.

_But it'd be sooo easy._ She petulantly whined.

_Too bad._ Macen inwardly replied and then outwardly greeted Effrit, "Hello again, Major. I didn't expect to see you out here."

"It is my test of loyalty." Effrit ruefully admitted.

"Then I suppose we should be marched away." Macen deduced.

"Before that," Effrit held out his hand, "your weapons."

The two guards levelled their rifles at the couple. Macen and T'Kir exchanged a knowing glance and handed their phasers over. Effrit visibly relaxed and "requested" that the SID agents follow him. The guards fell into step behind the pair and kept their rifles at the ready.

_Quite a rosy reception._ T'Kir grumped.

_What are you getting from Effrit?_ Macen wondered.

_He's under strict orders to deliver us to Balsat. _T'Kir thought back at him, _He and Kend have been put through the wringer. They've been cleared but we might be scapegoats._

_Lovely_. Macen's thought was sour.

_Well, _T'Kir ironically mused, _it's not like we haven't been down this road before. What's the worst they can do? Kill us? We've bounced back from that last time this happened._

Macen had to smile. Most people would find death to be a fairly permanent state of being. Macen and T'Kir weren't most people. They'd returned from the dead once before. Who's to say they couldn't do it again?

T'Kir wore an affectionate smile and she squeezed his hand, _We who are about to die will do so with our heads held high._

* * *

They were led through the warren of maze-like corridors until they finally reach a heavily defended office entrance. A SS Colonel stood before the weapons emplacement/barricade that guarded the office door. T'Kir dipped into his mind and confirmed for Macen that this was Markus Jeerk, Effrit's immediate superior. He was also the man directly tasked with insuring Chancellor Balsat's safety. It was a duty that weighed heavily upon him.

_Colonel Jerk here has been scared shitless ever since the pirates came._ T'Kir thoughtcast to Macen, _The mere fact that they could strike anywhere at any time has kept him up for months now._

_I'm sure. _Macen replied in kind, _I'm also certain Colonel Jeerk wouldn't appreciate being called a 'jerk'._

_Then he'd better be a lot nicer in reality than what he's thinking about being._ T'Kir warned him.

"Just what are you two staring at?" Jeerk growled.

_Told ya._ T'Kir gloated.

_We'll see_. Macen thought.

_Humph!_ T'Kir retorted and placed her fists on her hips.

Jeerk's eyes narrowed and he appraised the pair, "Are you deaf, mute, or just plain dumb?"

"Colonel…" Effrit spoke up.

"Stand down, Major!" Jeerk snapped and turned his attention to Effrit, "What is that in your hands?"

"Their sidearms, sir." Effrit crisply answered.

"Hand me one." Jeerk ordered. He received the phaser pistol and carefully examined it. Stepping close to Macen, he aimed the weapon at Macen's head. Macen and Jeerk's eyes locked on to one another. The Colonel's finger sat atop the trigger and it began to depress the firing stud.

Macen erupted into action. He took a hold of Jeerk's wrist and pulled while he rolled into Jeerk's body. His back met Jeerk's chest and Macen thrust his leg out and he pulled Jeerk forward and to the right. Jeerk rolled over the top of Macen's hip and leg.

Jeerk landed on his back and he let out all of his wind in a single exhale. Macen inverted the Colonel's wrist and snatched up the phaser as the pain caused Jeerk to release his grip. Macen then stood erect and held his hands in the air as the guards aimed their weapons at him. T'Kir laced her fingers behind her head. Effrit knelt next to Jeerk.

"Sir?" he asked, "Are you all right?"

The Ekosian officer scrambled to his feet, "By damn! Not stupid after all!"

"I thought you might appreciate that." Macen said wryly.

"Everyone stand down." Jeerk bellowed, "Yes, that means you Frackas."

The Ekosian troops settled down and their Colonel turned to Macen, "I'll take that weapon, Captain."

Macen easily handed it over and Jeerk smiled, "By thunder you're cooperative."

Macen grinned, "That's why we're here. Your Chancellor has questions and hopefully we have answers."

"What are your intentions towards _my _Chancellor?" Jeerk inquired.

"I don't have any." Macen honestly replied, "My mission didn't include contacting either the indigenous populations of Ekos or Zeon."

"What was your mission then?" Jeerk asked.

"The Federation hired us to drive away the pirates and to liberate this system." Macen explained.

"Which you appear to have done." Jeerk commented, "What was your business with Riekann?"

"We'd uncovered a possible connection between Riekann and the pirates." Macen answered, "I wanted to ask him about it personally."

"Which you did and now he's dead." Jeerk said sourly.

"Witnesses can confirm that neither my wife nor I had anything to do with that." Macen rebutted.

"Your witnesses already have." Jeerk grumped, "But the Chancellor wants to hear your complete story."

"I'm ready whenever he is." Macen informed Jeerk.

"Follow me then." Jeerk ordered and led them into the Chancellor's office.

* * *

Aboard the _Loki_ Danan had managed to tie the sensors in with the Ekosians' video surveillance system. Wherever Macen and T'Kir went the crew would receive live imagery so long as that area had monitors with which to record. Although she had declared herself to be "No T'Kir", Danan basked in the glory of her accomplishment. The assembled crew waited as Macen and T'Kir were brought before the Chancellor's expansive desk.

"That was a slick move that Macen pulled on that Ekosian Colonel." Riker mused.

Daggit grinned, "He was a good student. Would you like me to show it to you some time?"

Riker chuckled, "Let me think about that for a while, Rab."

"That's his polite way of saying, 'I'm getting to old for hand to hand fighting'." Danan laughed.

Riker replied with a stern look…the severity of which was negated by the twinkle in his eye. The repartee between them had taken on a new, vibrant dimension now that they had each finally come to grips with the depth of their true feelings. The tension that denial had wrought had faded and now they were free to express themselves. What had surprised and both of them was how well they knew each other already. They were already each other's natural foil.

To be perfectly honest, Riker could easily see where Danan's insistence on taking it easy and forgoing a formal commitment had helped them. They'd avoided prematurely leaping ahead until they were both certain that they wanted to take a step forward together. In the end, it had brought them closer.

"Look alive." Radil interrupted the reverie, "The show's about to begin."


	20. Chapter 20

Davod Balsat, Chancellor of the Ekosian Reich, greeted his alien guests in silence. Colonel Jeerk rounded the Chancellor's horseshoe shaped desk and dutifully filled his master in on what Macen had revealed thus far and what had transpired outside. Despite the SS' initial impression, the Chancellor was not gearing up for war. Effrit and Kend were the native attendees inside the office.

Macen detected ire. T'Kir's smirk informed him that she was getting an informative read into the situation. Macen was going to telepathically interrupt and ask what was going on when Jeerk marched back around the desk and exited the office. Balsat sized up his guests. As he did so, he appeared to age ten years.

"I have to apologise for the way that you have been treated." Balsat's emotional spectrum was quite contrite, "The good Colonel does not yet realise that we are, in fact, in your debt."

The Chancellor broke into a wan smile, "The fault, of course, is mine. It seems I wasn't clear enough on what the official policy towards you and your crew was to be. I hope that you can forgive me."

"It's easier to forgive someone when a gun hasn't been pointed at your head." Macen said dryly. As Balsat's face fell, Macen adopted a lighter tone, "Still, we're here on a mission of good will so I suppose we can let it slide just this once."

Balsat was on the verge of tears of gratitude, "Thank you."

"Chancellor," Macen began, "we came here as friends. We want nothing from you except your friendship in whatever form that you choose to offer it. The Federation won't threaten you, force you into anything, or take anything from you that you haven't freely given or traded for. They're not perfect but they're equitable. The worst that can happen is that they'll cajole you to death and talk your ears off."

A tentative grin appeared on the Chancellor's face, "I get enough of that already from the members of the Reichstag. I think we can survive it from aliens as well. We certainly survived the wheedling of the Ferengi."

Now Macen grinned, "They're not all bad but most tend to be annoying."

Balsat chuckled, "So it would seem."

"I can only hope that the Federation envoys sent here will be far more taciturn." Macen jested.

Balsat nodded, "Your cultural observers have been most kind and ingratiating over the years. They've instructed us without making us feel like children. After all, the first observer, John Gill, is now revered on Ekos and Zeon as the Fuhrer."

"I've read that the title was retired with Gill's death. How have the people taken to being governed by a Chancellor?" Macen asked.

"Admirably." Balsat admitted, "We have gone from being a nation of anarchy to one of order. That was Gill's doing. Each succeeding Chancellor is seen as being a custodian of his powers and intent."

"And how have the Ekosians taken to their Zeon Chancellor?" Macen enquired.

Effrit and Kend stiffened but Balsat laughed, "The old hatreds are dead and forgotten. My status as an émigré only added to my appeal. My election proves to the conservatives on Zeon that the Nazi Party has evolved. The Party on Zeon has increased its rolls by fifty percent since I was heralded into office. The old government has had to form a new coalition in order to stay in power. Soon we will overtake them and Ekos and Zeon will be united in every facet of the word."

"It's nice to see that you have goals." Macen dryly remarked.

At first Balsat was at a loss and then he recovered, "Marshal Kend has said that you offered us weapons. Is this true?"

"It's true." Macen confirmed, "I have fifteen hundred Type III phaser rifles that are available. You'll find them easier to use than your purchased weapons."

Macen faced Kend, "And may I congratulate you on your promotion. The Ekosian people will be well served."

"Yah!" T'Kir chimed in, "Give `em hell."

Kend demurely accepted the well wishes and praise, "Thank you. I will endeavour to live up to your expectations."

"Just keep doing what you're already doing and you'll be fine." T'Kir enthused.

T'Kir telepathically flashed Kend a private message. Kend looked slightly startled and then slowly she nodded once. Balsat missed the exchange. Effrit only noticed Kend's apparently absent minded nod. Macen, however, sensed the shift in mood from both women. Macen could empathically taste Kend's hardened resolve. He made a note to himself to query T'Kir about it later.

"When can you provide us with the rifles?" Balsat enquired.

"We can begin loading them aboard your transports as soon as they arrive _provided_ they're not carrying any more boarding parties." Macen warned, "I'm certain Mr. Rosemont will be well suited to the task of instructing your troops in their use."

Balsat looked amused, "Yes, Mr. Rosemont. The Chief Judicial has already informed me that Mr. Rosemont has been sentenced in absentia to death. However I'm willing to commute the death sentence and provide him a life term in exchange for his services. Is that acceptable?"

"It's all I hoped for." Macen confessed, "I'm sure Rosemont will be happy on Ekos."

"If not, there's always the death penalty to fall back on." Balsat wore a happy smile.

Macen's mind leapt upon that smile. Balsat's emotions were calm, if somewhat eager, and that eagerness worried him. He asked T'Kir what was on his mind.

T'Kir relayed a few boring items and one major revelation. Balsat, as indicated earlier, was devoted to the cause of uniting his two worlds. Once that was accomplished, he intended to marshal the strength of the billions of loyal Nazis into creating a fleet of their own and push out into the stars to make a mark in the universe. Admirable goals except that Balsat envisioned the military being the exploratory wing and history had proven over and over again that a militant push into the stars inevitably turned into a drive for conquest. Searching the Currents Macen found a distinct probability of Balsat being crowned the next Fuhrer.

Somewhat taken aback, Macen begged off further conversation, "We must be returning to the ship to prepare for the cargo transfers. If you'll excuse us…"

Balsat smiled, "Of course. Marshal Kend will contact you with the details."

Macen spoke for the benefit of his other audience, "Macen to Riker."

"Riker here."

"Beam us up and prepare for cargo distribution." Macen ordered.

"You've got it. Transporter says they have you. See you in a minute. Out."

On that note, Macen and T'Kir translated from matter into energy and said energy was gathered by the _Loki_ and reverted into matter. The Ekosians knew the basics but they still stood and stared in awe.

* * *

The _Barracuda_-class scout, NDT-10537 _SS Helios_, crossed the imaginary line that denoted the separation between the Meirkus Conglomeration and the United Federation of Planets. Although the crew of the scoutship had been covertly working for the interests of certain parties in the Conglomeration for several years now, this border crossing was the first where it might not be legal for them to return to the Federation. Captain Richard Drake's recently discarded wife could very well bring down the wrath of the entirety of Starfleet upon them.

All of the crew had been members of that illustrious institution, albeit the Starfleet of the 23rd century, but it was still Starfleet. They'd made a go of it as honest scouts. They'd simply found the market was saturated. To be blunt, if you couldn't work for Starfleet or the Daystrom Institute then you couldn't work regularly. However, organisations like the Orion Syndicate, the Meirkus Conglomeration, and hundreds of unscrupulous Ferengi needed scouts for long term contracts by the dozens. The transition had been a surprisingly easy one.

"We have a Starfleet _Sabre_-class patrol ship inbound along an intercept vector." Gary Toombs, the Science Officer, reported.

Drake straightened in his chair, "All right Bree, drop us out of warp but maintain maximum impulse until they challenge us."

Aubrey Hathaway complied as the ship's XO, Harmon Rappaport, moved down to the Captain's side, "What are you playing at, Rich?"

Drake had a naughty grin showing, "I thought we'd play it like last time. We play the poor injured party prevented from going along our way. Since the holds are empty we can let them scan us and they'll be none the wiser as to our profession."

Rappaport shared his commander's grin but had to ask, "And if they go for the arrest?"

Drake shrugged, "Then we fight it out."

Drake swivelled his chair around to the left side so he could see Elise Feldman. Feldman was more than his Weapons Officer, she was also his mistress. They'd shared beds aboard the _Bozeman_ and once again as soon as he'd gathered her for the crew for the _Helios_.

"Elise, honey, you might get a chance to shoot something so be ready." Drake knew that Feldman often complained that she had little to do aboard ship besides shag him.

"About time." Feldman wore a feral smile, "But you'd better be sure Stav has the power."

Drake nodded his thanks as she blew a kiss. He activated the intercom and paged Engineering. There, Stavros Xerxes answered.

"Engineering." Came Xerxes terse reply.

"We might be facing an engagement, Stav." Drake cut right to the chase, "Are you prepared for it?"

"All systems read 'Green'." Xerxes reported, "I can't tell you much more than that _but_ we did just rebuild this beast. She should stand by you."

Drake softly chuckled at that description of their ship. The class was Starfleet's first modular design. It had been so universally unpopular that it had been scrapped and the best features incorporated into the _Emden_-class escorts. In fact two ships of the _Barracuda_-class, the _Andes_ and the _Viking_, had been refitted according to the new design parameters. The remaining _Barracudas_ had been swiftly decommissioned and made available to privateers and civilian scouts.

When Drake found the _Helios_ she was on her ninth owner and most of her modular components were either malfunctioning or completely non-functional. Drake and the future members of the command staff pooled their resources and purchased the scoutship for far less than a comparable _Blackbird_- or _Newton_-class vessel would have cost. The bulk of their capital was reserved for repairs.

Over the course of the repairs it soon became apparent that _all _of the modular components would have to be replaced. Since Starfleet had stopped manufacturing modular units and pods for this class of ship sixty years before they'd need to find a private yard capable of doing the same. They'd ended up in Ferengi space. The parts had to be designed specifically for the ship and the function they were tasked with.

In spite of the components' origins being in the Ferengi Assembly, they were decidedly reasonable. The best part of the service is that any type of modular component could be melded to the ship as long as the price was right. Despite the discounts the Ferengi were willing to throw Drake's way in order to secure a lasting customer relationship, the upgrades tapped out the crews' financial reserves. They needed to find work.

Work, unfortunately, was scarce. Starfleet and the Daystrom Institute hired most of the scouts and Starfleet's irregular contracts were rapidly dwindling. Drake and the others had no love of the modern Starfleet and wished to avoid any entanglements with them. That left the crew of the _Helios _in dire straits.

Feldman had found a discreet ad listing job prospects with the Meirkus Conglomerate. They arrived on _Deep Space Three_ for the interview only to find Bertram Sindis waiting for them. Sindis had just solidified his control over Mityr after a long and bloody campaign. The Chairmanship of the Conglomeration had swiftly followed on its heels. What Sindis needed now was a reputable to semi-reputable wing of ships to scout out new, untapped sectors of space.

The jobs had been frequent and lucrative. Drake and the others had been amazed to discover how readily latinum greased the wheels in the "cashless" economy of the Federation. Their growing wealth also garnered them increased attention from Ferengi and Orion merchants. Cardassian military surplus brokers availed themselves of Drake's growing interest in their wares. The crews' increasing appetites demanded an ever increasing income.

The _Helios_ had successfully charted dozens of previously uncataloged star systems but the crew desired a greater challenge. Sindis provided one when he asked Drake if his crew would be willing to discreetly deliver certain trade goods to specific clients on various worlds. The financial rewards would be far beyond those of scouting. Hence, the crew of the _Helios _became smugglers.

Sindis considered them to be ideal for the task. The _Helios _was far faster than commercial craft. The crew had unimpeachable records with the Federation authorities and Starfleet. They'd never be looked at twice.

At least that was true until Drake had raised Amanda's suspicions. Now they were returning to Mityr in disgrace. Sindis, however, had been very understanding and was willing to put them back to scouting out uncharted systems and sectors. They just had to gracefully exit the Federation.

"Rich," Rappaport turned away from the Communications console, "they're challenging us."

"Give them ship's registry, crew and cargo manifests." Drake instructed.

"Aye." Rappaport complied and waited for the Starfleet vessel to reply. It did so in a matter of a few minutes. Rappaport smiled, "They send their captain's regards and wish us good fortune."

Drake wore a victorious smile, "Return the compliments."

Rappaport grinned, "Aye."

Drake addressed Feldman, "Sorry, Elise. We won't be going to war after all."

She pretended to pout, "Oh darn. I guess we'll just have to celebrate instead."

"I like the sound of that." Drake winked and turned to Hathaway, "Pour on the steam, Bree. I'd hate to keep our patron waiting."

"He'd hate it as well." Hathaway dryly observed.

"Precisely." Drake agreed, ignoring Hathaway's sarcasm. Only after they returned to warp did Drake allow himself to reflect. She obviously hadn't issued put out a warrant on him. He hoped, he sincerely hoped, that Amanda would be able to reconcile herself to his leaving.

_If not, _Drake glumly mused, _I may never see Earth again._

* * *

All of the off loading had taken place. Kend was now aboard the _Loki_ and making her farewells, "Thank you for everything, Captain. Neither my people nor myself can never repay you for what you've done."

"Your people can welcome the Federation to Ekos and Zeon as friends." Macen said with utmost sincerity, "That would be payment enough."

Kend smiled, "I'll pass that along."

"As for you," Macen's eyes twinkled, "remain a champion of your people. See to their safety against threats, both external and internal."

Kend took a deep breath and, after a moment of reflection, nodded, "I make this pledge that I will regard the people's needs as my utmost priority."

Macen nodded, "Close enough. Farewell Jorra Kend. If the Fates are kind we'll see one another again."

Kend offered a shy smile in return, "That would be nice."

T'Kir wrapped her arm around Macen's and waved, "Goodbye. Don't forget to write."

Kend frowned and transited to her waiting ship via the airlock. Dracas cycled the lock and secured it. The modified ore hauler detached itself from the freighter's hull and made for an atmospheric insertion. As soon as the Ekosians were clear, the _Loki _broke orbit and set course out of the system. Their intended destination being Mityr.

"Time to get back to hunting pirates." Macen opined after entering the bridge.

Riker swivelled the command chair around far enough to make eye contact, "That it is."

Riker luxuriated in the chair and asked Macen, "Want your chair back?"

Macen grinned, "Go ahead, and get comfy. I'm going to be busy trying to put a face to the mystery named 'Bertram Sindis'."

Riker smiled, "You're right. I'm better suited here."

"I'll need T'Kir." Macen informed Riker. T'Kir alighted to his side.

"Take her." Riker chuckled, "She's a useless trollop on the bridge anyway."

"I'll show you 'trollop'." T'Kir stuck out her tongue.

"Oh, no you won't." Danan declared, "And put that thing away before you decide to use it. Remember, I know your past history."

T'Kir pushed her tongue back into her mouth with her finger and then sucked on her finger. Danan rolled her eyes, "Get her off the bridge."

Macen took her by the waist and steered her off of the bridge. T'Kir was laughing, "Who ever thought Lees would turn into a prude?"

"She was playing with you and you know it." Macen rebutted.

"Yah," T'Kir agreed, "but it's more fun to kvetch."

"When did you go ethnic?" Macen laughed.

"Hey!" T'Kir protested, "I'm ethnic."

"You're definitely different from the majority of Vulcans." Macen retorted.

"Thank you for noticing, kind sir." T'Kir bowed her head as Macen kept guiding her down the corridor. He stopped at the entrance to "his" office. Macen gave the audio pass code and the door slid aside.

Macen steered T'Kir into the waiting space. The door closed behind them and T'Kir turned around and wrapped her arms around Macen's neck. She drew his head down and kissed him. When their lips parted Macen smiled and closed the distance between them and kissed her again.

"Mmmm." T'Kir glowed with contentment, "Now, _this _I like."

The door chimed and T'Kir let loose of a verbal volley, "Dammit! I'm gonna kill whoever's behind that door."

"Come in." an amused Macen instructed. The door opened to reveal Prentiss. T'Kir rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air, "Great! Just what we needed."

Prentiss marched over to T'Kir. Brow knitted, lips pursed, and fists on her hips, she demanded, "What is your problem with me?"

"You're Jellico's handpicked assassin. If it were left t'you the team would be broken apart and sent to penal colonies." T'Kir shouted.

"If you deserved it," Prentiss shouted back, "but I don't think you do."

_That_ startled T'Kir. She blinked and asked, "You don't?" in a softer voice.

"No. I. Don't." Prentiss punctuated every word despite lowering her voice.

T'Kir's posture relaxed and she adopted a goofy grin, "Well why din'cha say so?"

Prentiss rewarded her with a very pained expression, "I thought you were the mind reader."

"Been busy." T'Kir remarked, "Haven't had time to review that vacuum bottle you call a brain."

Macen could swear he heard a growl emit from the back of Prentiss' throat but she limited her overt response to a glare squarely aimed at T'Kir. Focusing her attention on Macen, she asked, "May I speak with you?"

"Take a seat." Macen suggested, "Would you care for a spot of tea and some biscuits?"

"No thanks." Prentiss moved for the couch but T'Kir plopped down and curled up there first. Prentiss frowned but did not acknowledge the move in any other fashion. She took a seat before the captain's desk.

"Suit yourself." Macen instructed the replicator and then carried a cup of steaming tea and a tin of cookies over to T'Kir. He repeated the exercise and sat down behind the desk.

"How can I help you, Commander?" Macen asked as he got comfortable.

Prentiss allowed herself a small smile, "You undoubtedly heard what I said."

"You mean about no longer suspecting my crew of malfeasance?" Macen asked and Prentiss nodded. "No, I don't think I could have missed that one." He dryly remarked, "How did you reach this conclusion?"

"I've been monitoring your crew through the security sensors via remote." Prentiss revealed, "And of course, your meeting with the Chancellor was broadcast for the entire crew to hear."

"And how exactly did you access the security sensors?" Macen inquired.

Prentiss noted the change in his eyes. A moment before they had twinkled with merry amusement. Now they glistened with icy fury. It wasn't a change that bode well.

"Admiral Drake gave me the command codes before I boarded the ship." Prentiss explained, "I've monitored every report, transmission, and internal happening since we departed Barrinorian space."

Prentiss brightened, "I've witnessed your crew in action. There's nothing negative to report. My assignment is over."

"You think you're done?" Macen asked, "You very well may be but my team's mission is just beginning."

Prentiss' face fell, "Meaning there isn't time to drop me at the nearest starbase."

Macen nodded, "Exactly."

"So how do I pitch in?" Prentiss asked.

"What can you do?" Macen enquired.

"I've qualified as a bridge officer." Prentiss offered, "I'm no specialist at any station but I know my way around."

Macen wore a grim smile, "You just volunteered to become the standing relief officer for all three shifts. Congratulations."

Prentiss blinked in surprise, "All three?"

"We got here without your participation." Macen reminded her, "We probably won't need you."

"We'll see won't we?" Prentiss mused, "You've been a help. Am I dismissed?"

"Whenever you like." Macen informed her.

Prentiss rose, "I won't let the team down."

"We won't let you." Macen cryptically assured her.

Prentiss departed and Macen asked T'Kir, "Ready to work?"

"Do I hafta?" she retorted.

"Yes." Was his simple yet firm reply.

"Fine." She sighed. Finishing the last of her tea and biscuits, she moved behind the desk and bumped Macen out of the chair.


	21. Chapter 21

Several hours later, Macen and T'Kir's moods had soured. Macen had moved one of the guest chairs behind the desk so that he could sit beside T'Kir. She'd downloaded dozens of reports onto padds and now they were staring at a profile of Bertram Sindis compiled by Starfleet Intelligence. It painted a dark picture.

Sindis had once been a fleet commander with the Iridian Enforcers. Disgraced by the fact that he conducted a genocidal campaign against the wrong foe, Sindis had been stripped of rank and exiled from the sphere of influence dominated by the Enforcers. T'Kir made a disgusted noise.

"They didn't throw him out because he killed an entire race," She angrily observed, "they threw him out because he wiped out the wrong one."

"You might try reading the contact reports regarding the Iridians." Macen suggested, "You'll find a lot of that."

T'Kir rolled her eyes, "What's the usual punishment for something like that?"

"Death." Macen answered and then added, "But Sindis distinguished himself by taking full responsibility for the deed and then proceeded to tell the Enforcer tribunal that they would have ordered the massacre in fifty years anyway. They agreed in principle but still had to mete out some punishment for failing to properly follow orders."

"So he gets banished and now we're stuck with him." T'Kir growled.

"Essentially." Macen confirmed it, "Look at this. Sindis is known for the complexity of his strategic traps."

"One of which we're sailing headlong into." T'Kir grumpily surmised

"Probably." Macen agreed, "Look at it this way now we get to see how good we really are."

"No thanks." T'Kir quipped, "I can live with being inadequate."

"Fates forefend." Macen teased, "I thought you wanted the entire galaxy to know you were top cat."

"That's 'top dog'." T'Kir corrected, "And it's not just the galaxy, I want the whole _frinxing_ universe to know."

"Here's your shot at fame and glory." Macen insisted.

T'Kir rolled her eyes, "You really want to go after this guy even though he'll probably squash us like little, teeny weenie bugs?"

"Yup." Macen admitted.

"Who'm I to stop you then?" T'Kir rhetorically enquired.

Macen kissed her on the cheek, "Thanks. I knew you'd understand."

Macen started out of the office. T'Kir reined him in, "Where are you goin' buster?"

"I have to brief Tom." Macen answered.

"All I get is one lousy peck on the cheek and then you're off to brief Tom?" T'Kir grumped.

"Check your chronometer." Macen suggested, "Your watch begins in a couple of minutes. Love you. Bye."

Macen was out of the office before T'Kir could reply. She took him up on his suggestion and checked the chrono. Seeing its display, she frowned.

"Oh hell." She groused, "This day just gets better `n better."

* * *

Riker's reaction to Macen's news was understandable, "Why would this Sindis set a trap for us?"

Danan nodded her agreement, "The odds of this exact team dealing with this situation are fairly remote."

"I don't think the trap was specifically set for us." Macen sought to explain, "From what T'Kir gathered in Riekann's thoughts the pirates boasted how they were there to set a trap. Given Starfleet's interest in Ekos and Zeon it's a small deductive leap that they were there to make trouble for Starfleet. My guess is that it would affect Starfleet Intelligence since the matter was sensitive and SI co-ordinates most of the fleet's anti-piracy operations."

Riker glanced over to Danan, "Man's got a point."

"What's the real reason you're so certain this is a trap laid out for Starfleet?" Danan asked, "Is this one of your 'hunches' again?"

"The Currents flow in that direction and I'm willing to follow them." Macen revealed, "We have to trust our intuition on this one."

"My intuition tells me we should stop and call in reinforcements." Riker opined.

"I'm already considering that." Macen looked over to Danan, "Lees?"

"My eight previous lifetimes' worth of experience agrees with Tom." She admitted, "But I, myself, trust your interpretation of these 'Currents' of yours. They've never steered us wrong before."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Macen grinned, "I know that had to cost you."

"Not as much as you think." Danan confided.

Macen rose from the couch he was seated upon in the rec room and leaned over Danan and kissed her on the cheek, "Thank you for that. It means a lot."

"Sit down." Riker ordered, "You're married. Shame on you." Turning on Danan he said, "And you, you're spoken for or have you forgotten that little fact?"

Although the words were playful they still startled Danan. A heartbeat passed and then a sly smile crept across her face, "Why don't we go to my quarters and you can remind me?"

Riker turned to Macen, "I take it all back. You're forgiven."

Macen laughed while Riker and Danan exited the rec room. The moment's levity passing, he noted that Radil was keeping solitary company. She was involved with a padd and seemed to be composing a letter. She saw his shadow loom over her and she tucked the padd away out of sight. Turning, she saw Macen gave him a quizzical look.

"I was wondering if you'd like some company?" Macen explained.

Radil seemed torn, "I need to finish this first."

"Take your time." Macen replied, "I'll either be in my office or on the bridge if you find you want to talk."

Radil nodded, "I'll find you when I'm ready."

"All right." Macen nodded and then departed. Whatever Radil was working on it was causing her emotional pain. Waves of loneliness and sorrow radiated off of her.

Macen could count the number of private conversations that he'd had with Radil on a single hand and none of those had been a heart to heart. He didn't know if she would open up or if she were even capable of it. If she did, he could only hope that he would be capable of helping her.

After the doors sealed shut behind Macen's departing back Radil retrieved her padd. She reviewed the contents of the letter she'd drafted. In it Radil had declared her love for Abby. She had then gone on to explain why they could never unite as a couple. Signing off she pleaded with Collins to retain their friendship but that she would understand if they couldn't remain friends.

Radil fought back tears as she rose and went to her quarters. Once there, she opened up a comm channel and transmitted the letter to Collins' personal mail account. Having done so, she collapsed upon the bed and went limp.

Emotionally drained and exhausted, Radil dreaded meeting with her Captain. She also wanted to go to him and confess her woes and travails to him. Nearly every other member of the team had presented themselves to him in the past and every one of them had been grateful that they had. Pushing herself up to a seated position she sighed. She was finally going to take the plunge herself.

* * *

Prentiss stepped onto the bridge. Grace manned the helm and T'Kir was leaned up against the station. Luckily civilian CONN stations, at least Bajoran ones, possessed a wider border surrounding the controls and T'Kir's pose did not hamper operations in any way. Not that there many operations to impede. The computer had control of the sometimes lumbering ship and there wasn't much for the crew to do but monitor the ship's progress.

Prentiss studied the pair for a moment. Grace was her own age. T'Kir appeared to be her age but she knew from the Vulcan's file that she was much older in that typical fashion that her people appeared ageless for so long when compared to humans. Prentiss reminded herself that she wasn't here to be jealous. She was on a mission to mend fences.

Unfortunately her mission seemed to die aborning. T'Kir spotted her and suddenly declared, "Red alert! Shields up!"

Grace swivelled around to see what the commotion was about. When she saw Prentiss she frowned. Staring squarely at T'Kir, she declared, "Shame on you!"

"What I do?" T'Kir demanded.

"Her vendetta's over." Grace scolded, "Yours should be too."

Looking thoroughly chastised, T'Kir repentantly murmured, "Yes, mother."

"That's better." Grace replied, "Now play nice."

Prentiss was amazed. The last person she expected to see as an ally was T'Kir's closest friend. She voiced that opinion and Grace laughed.

"Everyone expects me to be the sidekick." She explained her mirth, "They're always surprised when I strike out on my own."

Prentiss coloured, "I can't say much since I'm guilty of the same fallacy."

"So what brings you up here?" T'Kir abruptly interjected.

Prentiss released a heavy sigh, "Can we forgo the hostilities? I was doing my job. I didn't do it to the best of my ability but I found out what I needed to know. You're all in the clear." Prentiss locked eyes with T'Kir, "We may not be friends but we can at least be professionals."

T'Kir looked dubious but Macen suddenly declared from behind Prentiss, "Best idea I've heard yet."

T'Kir's cheeks held an emerald flush, "Okay, okay, I get it already."

Prentiss looked embarrassed and Macen attempted to reassure her, "No disparagement to your efforts was intended but my wife is particularly hard headed. She occasionally needs to be smacked over the head with something before it takes hold."

"Hey!" T'Kir protested, "I'm not the only hard headed one standing here buster!"

"This is why I have to report to our employer. Who, in this case, is an admiral." Macen replied, "And speaking of whom, I have to make a report. Have a pleasant evening ladies."

Macen left and T'Kir wondered, "Now what?"

Prentiss broke into a coy smile, "Have either of you ever played Fizzbin?"

* * *

Ambril Delori's features filled Macen's monitor. He'd routed the call to the wall monitor and the Bajoran appeared to be life size. For the first time in their contentious relationship Macen noted that Ambril was a pretty young thing. She wasn't a beauty but she possessed a delicate attractiveness and that couldn't be denied.

"Hello, you've reached Admiral Amanda Drake's offices." Ambril recited by rote, "How may I assist…oh, it's you, Captain. I'll let her know you've commed."

"Thank you, Commander." Macen placed the emphasis on her rank to highlight her recent promotion. Ambril rewarded him with a pleasant smile and then the audio cut out and she was addressing another screen. After a few words were exchanged, Ambril returned to "his" monitor.

"I'm sorry Captain." Ambril was sincere, "The Admiral will be occupied with meetings and briefings all afternoon and early evening. She suggests you file your regular report and she'll get back to you on it at her earliest convenience."

"Not a problem." Macen replied, "I'll just call back later."

"Thank you for understanding." Ambril said, "HQ out."

Macen deactivated the wall monitor after the image reverted to the symbol for Starfleet Command. He went to the replicator and materialised a cup of coffee and then he requested two chocolate biscotti. Retrieving a padd, he sat down on the couch and began to write his Special Incident Report. He'd barely finished the first paragraph when the door chime sounded. He verbally released the door and it slid aside to reveal Radil.

Even without his empathic senses Macen could tell that Radil was distraught, "Jenrya, can I get you anything?"

She stiffly nodded, "I'll have whatever you're having."

Macen invited Radil to join him on the couch and then he went to the replicator and repeated his previous orders. He brought them to Radil and retook his seat. He dipped his biscotti into his coffee, let it soak for a second, and then took a bite out of the moistened end. Radil watched this and then mirrored it.

Her eyes regained a bit of life to them when she did so, "This is good."

The surprise in her voice made Macen chuckle, "Sometimes new things are. Maybe you should take a lesson from that."

Radil frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Most people with the emotional upheaval you're experiencing have suffered a loss. Since you have family that I'm aware of that leaves a loved one. A certain Abigail Collins is the only loved one of yours that I know about so this relaters to Abby somehow."

Radil was shocked, "How did you know…?"

"That you love her?" Radil nodded and Macen sought to explain, "How could I not know? You're a different woman when you're with her. You're happier and the emotional void left inside you from decades of warfare is filled. To be blunt, you're a better and more complete person with her than without."

"But I can't be with her." Radil groaned.

"Why not?" Macen asked between bites.

"It's too difficult to explain." Radil complained," There's just too much…"

"Explain it to me like I'm a six-year old." Macen suggested, "That should trim away most of the excess fat."

Radil faltered at first but as she warmed to her audience the words came flowing out. She expressed her fears, her hopes, her worries, her desires, and her doubts. She'd made her decision regarding her involvement with Collins and she didn't know if she could live with it. It made Macen's heart ache.

"But what causes you to doubt Abby's sincerity?" Macen asked.

"She's had affairs with her last three commanding officers regardless of race or gender." Radil revealed, "I'm just another notch on her belt."

Macen took a deep breath, "That does look bad. However, as an impartial witness, she definitely plays the part of the devoted prospective suitor well."

"That's my major concern." Radil struggled to clearly express herself, "What if she's oh so devoted now but that all changes when our command structure shifts?"

"You mean if she's promoted to the post of Chief of Security on another Outbound Ventures ship?" Macen narrowed the options down.

"Exactly!" Radil leapt upon that interpretation.

Macen shook his head once, "I don't know. I guess it would all depend on how much she loves you."

Radil firmly shook her head, "No, it doesn't. My choice. I've made my decision. Unless she can prove otherwise we're done even before we started."

"Can you live with that?" Macen enquired.

With a fresh wave of determination, Radil nodded, "Yeah, I think I can."

"Then I wish you the best." Macen informed her and then after a moment of silence had passed he asked, "Is there something else you'd like to talk about?"

Radil hesitated and then plunged ahead, "Yeah. I was wondering…"


	22. Chapter 22

Annika Ryst sat before the comp/comm unit in her runabout. She was reviewing the data files on her Celeste Rockford identity. Rockford was a licensed private investigator. She was so well esteemed she'd qualified for a universal weapons permit enabling her to carry a phaser anywhere in the Federation.

Ryst sighed. She enjoyed every opportunity that she had to play Rockford. It was usually in between merc jobs. Her cases were occasionally challenging and there was a helluva lot less killing.

Ryst's stomach soured. She was tired of the meaningless destruction. She only had one more job to finish and then she could give up the mercenary life and become Celeste Rockford forever. Once Macen and his team were gone she would be free from her past at long last.

* * *

Despite her vaunted Vulcan endurance, T'Kir looked tired. Macen mentioned this and got a dirty look in reply. Stepping onto the sparring mat, T'Kir looked ready to do some damage. Macen whispered a prayer to his favourite deity and joined her.

Twenty minutes later, Macen stripped his gloves off and removed his headgear and mouth guard, "You want to tell me why you're so angry?"

T'Kir ripped her glove off and spit her guard out into her liberated hand, "I could have gotten some sleep if it wasn't for you. I'd understand it if we'd done something fun but nooo we have to research Bertram bloody Sindis. He's gonna kill you, you know that don't you?"

"He doesn't even know me." Macen retorted, "Why would he kill me?"

"Brin," T'Kir was becoming exasperated, "this guy's entire life is about killing people he doesn't know."

Macen studied her for a moment and then he softly asked, "What are you basing this upon?"

That question seemed to rattle her and she was reticent to speak but Macen urged her to do so. Finally, she opened up, "It's just a feeling. You know how you've let me see the Currents through your perceptions? This feels like that. It's like I can see how things will probably turn out. It's scaring the hell outta me."

Macen graced her with a sad smile, "It does get old."

"Have you known about this?" T'Kir demanded.

"It's a possibility." Macen replied, "Actually it's one of several."

"Spare me the humour and don't try and get out of this one, Brin." T'Kir insisted, "You've known that there's a real possibility that you could get killed on this mission and we're still continuing on with it?"

"Yes." Was all Macen said.

Flustered, T'Kir persevered, "Can I ask why?"

"We hired on to do a job." Macen said with firm conviction, "It imparts upon us a sense of duty. We perform to the best of our ability for every employer we contract with. You remember those three years that we weren't able to accept SID jobs?"

T'Kir slowly nodded and Macen pressed on, "We did the job. We outdid ourselves and pushed ourselves every second of every day because we'd made a promise to do so. That promise holds for every person who employs us whether it is for five minutes or for five years. We _do_ the job."

T'Kir wore a sheepish smile, "Anyone ever tell you that you're sexy when you're adamant?"

Macen broke into a bashful grin, "Not today."

"I'm telling you right now." T'Kir emphasised, "I'm done here. I'm gonna take a shower. Wanna help?"

"Do I ever!" Macen ripped his gear off and tossed it aside.

T'Kir laughed and darted out of the gym with Macen hot on her heels.

* * *

Feldman groaned as the comm terminal continued its incessant chiming. Withdrawing her arm from where it had been draped across Drake's chest, she rolled over and presented him with her back. Drake rolled out of bed with a disgusted grunt. Padding over to the comm, he took a moment to verify the sender's identity.

The sender was a minor functionary in Sindis' operations. Drake accepted the call and Sindis' pale features appeared. Sindis softly chuckled upon assessing Drake's appearance.

"Dressing informally these days I see." Sindis dryly commented.

Drake's eyes passed over his nude form. "I didn't exactly have time to dress myself. Would you prefer to be kept waiting in the future?"

A cold smile appeared on Sindis' face, "You chose wisely. Do sit down."

Drake obeyed. The leather chair's embrace was cool to his skin. Drake struggled to hide his momentary discomfort from Sindis. He could tell from the cruel gleam of delight in the Iridian's eye that he'd failed.

"So," Drake sought to forge ahead, "what have I done to warrant a personal call?"

"Nothing that I'm aware of but that's exactly what I need to find out." Sindis replied.

Drake rubbed his face. Was he just that tired or was Sindis playing more than his share of mind games today? "Find out what?" he finally asked.

"We have an unexpected guest charting course for Mityr." Sindis revealed, "The ship is Federation flagged and registered to Outbound Ventures, Inc. Her captain is a certain Brin Macen."

"Why does this all sound familiar?" Drake wondered.

"Macen is a privateer." Sindis explained, "Outbound Ventures is the umbrella corporation under which he and seven other owner-operator privateers operate contract under. As the founder of Outbound Ventures, Macen gets a cut of every contract that the others sign. In return the individual captains and crews are granted enviable insurance coverage."

"So why does Macen's imminent arrival pose a threat?" Drake had to wonder.

"Macen has made his post-Starfleet career by capturing pirates, apprehending smuggling rings, and tearing apart criminal cartels." Sindis' manner grew colder, "Can you see how that might prove a difficulty?"

Drake ruefully nodded, "I see your point."

"There is another point to make as well." Sindis informed him, "Macen's primary contract is with Starfleet, specifically the Special Investigations Division. Are you certain your wife has never mentioned anything regarding him?"

Drake grimaced, "Amanda never spoke to me about anything."

"Pity." Sindis mused, "I'd rather hoped that she'd confided some mortal weakness of his with you."

"Sorry." Drake sincerely replied, "Amanda never discussed work and, since her job is her life, that didn't leave much room for meaningful conversation."

"I see." Sindis said with meaning, "If, however, you should recall some offhand remark that may prove useful then contact me at once."

"How will I know if it's important if it's insignificant?" Drake asked.

Sindis' smile could have frozen hydrogen, "Trust me, Richard. You will know."

Drake wearily nodded, "As you say."

"What is your ETA?" Sindis enquired.

"We're not due for another three days at our current cruising speed." Drake dutifully reported, "Want us to quicken the pace?"

"No." Sindis answered thoughtfully, "Presumably Macen knows nothing of you. There should be no need for clandestine manoeuvres."

"And if a need arises?" Drake's guts tightened up.

Sindis replied with one of his trademark oily smiles, "In that happenstance I shall endeavour to persuade Captain Macen to look the other way."

"And if he refuses?" Drake felt cold all of a sudden.

Sindis chuckled, "In that case, Captain Macen and his crew will soon regret having rejected my generosity."

"Look," Drake didn't know what he was saying, "if this guy is a privateer that means he's essentially a ship for hire. I can reason with him on that basis."

"I rather doubt that." Sindis coolly remarked.

"At least give me a chance." Drake _almost_ pleaded, "What can that hurt?"

"It won't," Sindis acknowledged, "_provided_ that this isn't some devolution into your abandoned Starfleet morality. I'd thought that you were beyond such trivialities by now. Remember, victory is achieved at any price."

"And no price is too great." Drake smiled as he recanted the Iridian mantra.

Sindis smiled as well, "Just so. Remember these words in the days to come. They will see you through."

"They already have." Drake admitted.

"I shall take my leave of you and allow you to gather rest." Sindis signed off and the comm screen went dark.

"It's about time." Feldman said from the doorway leading to the bedroom, "Doesn't the man know what time it is aboard ship?"

"More to the point is does he even care." Drake snorted. He idly began tracing her curves with his eyes. She caught this despite the dimmed lights, "Stop that."

Drake rose and met her. His hands traced her skin. She protested but it was with a smile, "I'm warning you. I'm tired and cranky. You don't want to start anything you won't finish. I'll make your life a living hell."

"I think someone needs a rubdown." Drake countered.

"Oh, you do?" Feldman's smile grew, "What else do you think?"

Drake whispered his answer and Feldman sprinted for the bed. Drake caught her and tackled her as she bounded atop the mattress. She went down in a squeal of delight. Drake began to apply oils to her back, arms, and legs. Lavishing every once of concentration on her comfort, he proceeded to live out what he had suggested to her earlier in a whisper.

* * *

After breakfast Macen tried calling Drake again. Ambril was far more enthusiastic this time `round, which he took to be a good sign. After a quick word with the Admiral, Macen was transferred to Amanda's comm unit.

"`Lo Amanda." Macen used his usual greeting.

Drake was bright and alert but her eyes and the corners of her mouth were tight. Not for the first time, Macen wished he hadn't been barraged by theta radiation during the _Odyssey's _death throes. His ability to read the Currents, enhanced by his exposure to the Nexus, had been severely curtailed.

Once upon a lifetime, he would have been able to sense the most probable futures revolving around Drake even from this distance. Now he felt nothing. Even when all else was lost he could still listen to her and help her find her future path.

"Brin," Drake smiled but not all of it reached her eyes, "I viewed the summary to your incident report last night and read the full text report this A.M. I've reviewed the material with Alynna and she's released Starfleet's 'Eyes Only' assessment and briefing on Sindis to you. I'm attaching the file to this transmission and sending it to you while we converse. It's secured with one of T'Kir's encryptions. She should have no problem opening up the message."

Macen grinned, "Anything else?"

"Yes," Drake's demeanour became very assertive, "I'm ordering you off the case."

"Does that mean you're rescinding our contract?" Macen calmly asked.

"You'll receive your full remuneration but you are not, I repeat, _not _to proceed to Mityr and engage Bertram Sindis." Drake declared.

Macen was thoroughly amused by now, "Any particular reason why?"

"Read the files and you'll discover what Alynna and I have been afraid of for over ten years now." Drake opined, "You'd be outgunned and outclassed even if you had the crew of the _Obsidian _behind you. As it is, in the _Loki_, you're too vulnerable. I'm not sending you in."

"How about we compromise?" Macen offered.

"I'm listening but I'm not promising anything." Drake warned.

"I wouldn't want you to." Macen's grin blossomed into a smile, "I've given this some thought and here's what we'll need…"

* * *

When he was finished, Drake wore a grim expression of approval, "I like it better than you're sailing off to your doom."

"I find most things preferable to that particular scenario." Macen admitted, "Remember, tell Elias the rendezvous is at _DS3_."

"Copy that." Drake nodded, "I'll have the other elements in play before today is concluded."

"It's three days to _DS3_ from here and another five to Mityr from there." Macen pointed out, "Will everyone have their timing down?"

"Everyone will be waiting on you." Drake grinned.

"Oh, wonderful." Macen groused.

"Brin," Drake hesitated and was uncharacteristically unsure of herself, "Richard is in the Meirkus Conglomeration and likely to have ties to Sindis."

"Remind me who Richard is." Macen requested.

"My husband." Drake sighed forlornly, "His ship, the _Helios_, was hailed by a border patrol ship heading into Conglomerate space."

"I see." Macen frowned, "How do you want it handled?"

"I want the ship and crew taken into custody." Drake grew fierce, "If they resist, use all due force to apprehend them."

"I take it they have warrants out on them now?" Macen asked.

Drake was cool as she answered, "Yes. I took the circumstances of the _Helios'_ disappearance to the JAG offices and they authorised a search and seizure. Elise Feldman, the _Helios' _weapons officer, kept a back-up of the ship's internal security recordings on a portable computer core. They were…revealing."

Macen knew that was a loaded statement but left it up to Drake to divulge any further information. She didn't, "Study the files we have on Sindis and keep in mind that the assessments were compiled by Mackenzie Calhoun. The rivalry between you two should lend extra credence to the report's veracity."

A sober Macen nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." Drake seemed satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. _She should, _Macen thought, _She got her way on almost every detail._ The screen went blank and Macen recycled his dishes. Next, he travelled to the bridge.

"Full stop." He ordered as he stepped onto the bridge. T'Kir and Grace exchanged a look of surprise but Grace immediately complied. "Bring us about and set course for _Deep Space 3_."

T'Kir voiced the obvious question, "Why? I thought we were headed for Mityr."

"We still are." Macen replied, "We're just taking the long way around."

T'Kir's eyes went wide and she tapped her temple, "Got it. I'll brief Hannah. You do what you need to do."

Grace was still puzzled but T'Kir began to unfold what she'd gleaned from Macen's mind. Macen himself did not stay for the conclusion of this discourse. Instead, he returned to the sparse office and began to set Outbound Venture's wheels in motion. Fortunately, Christine Pike seemed tickled by the notion and promised to devote her full attention to the matter. The crew of the _Obsidian_ would sail on time or they'd face the wrath of Pike!

After the transmission had terminated, Macen leaned back and basked in the knowledge that he'd forged a good crew and that they'd be where they needed to be on time. Next, he had T'Kir decrypt the Starfleet reports Drake had sent. Macen began to read them. In short order he knew why Drake was concerned. He had chills as it was and he hadn't even encountered the reality of the reports..

_We're in for the ride of our lives._ He thought with trepidation.


	23. Chapter 23

Richard Drake studied the viewer and the old sense of foreboding crept over him again. Stretched out before them lay the shattered space station built by the original humanoid culture that had arisen and thrived on Mityr until the planetary war engulfed the population.

The original surveys of the planet revealed that the biogenic weapon that had decimated the population had been keyed to the inhabitants DNA. With no inhabitants to host the viral agents, the strain had been driven into extinction. The corporation that resettled Mityr sought an easy and resource savvy method of colonising their foothold in what would become the Meirkus Conglomeration.

The infrastructure had to be rebuilt since none of the native technology functioned. The corpses of the populace were disposed of in mass graves. A popular myth among the settlers was that the angered spirits of the dead civilisation would resurrect their corpses and massacre the intruders.

Although Drake's conscious mind rejected such tales there was a subliminal truth there that inhabited part of his awareness. This accounted for his caution when approaching the station and the field of starship debris beyond it. Safe transit channels had been carved out long ago. They were constantly patrolled by tenders and hazards were removed.

_Still, _Drake mused, _it never hurts to be careful._

"How're we doing, Bree?" Drake asked Hathaway.

"Five by five, Skip." Hathaway cheerfully replied.

"Don't worry, Darling." Feldman teased, "No bogeymen will eat us."

Drake shot her an irritated glare, "I didn't think they would."

Feldman patted her station's console, "Even if they did, we've got superior firepower."

"I'll keep that in mind in case demons leap out of Hell to destroy us." Drake dryly remarked.

"Skipper," Toombs interrupted, "We're receiving a hail from Sindis' offices."

"I'll take it in the briefing room." Drake informed the Science Officer. Like the _Blackbird_-class the _Barracudas_ possessed a briefing room attached to the rear of the bridge. Drake made his way to the display control centre and activated the wall monitor.

"Sindis." Drake tipped his head out of respect.

"Drake." Sindis exchanged the greeting, "It appears that you were not Macen's quarry after all."

"Not that I'm surprised," Drake chuckled, "but what brings you to that conclusion?"

"Macen diverted to _Deep Space 3_ and should be arriving there even as we speak." Sindis announced, "Yet my informants in Starfleet Intelligence tell me that arrest warrants have been issued on your crew and that Starfleet knows that you're in the Conglomeration."

"Hardly surprising that they know that since we were challenged by the border patrol on our way here." Drake reminded the Iridian.

"Too true." Sindis wore a tight smile, "I'd still like your crew to berth in the Citadel."

"We'd be honoured." Drake bowed his head.

Sindis waved this consideration away, "Richard, you and your crew have proven to be valuable assets no matter what task you're assigned to. I'd like to see that continue. If I can assist that effort by affording you some well deserved kindness then that's what I'll do."

Before Drake could reply, Sindis signed off. Drake whistled to himself and then returned to the bridge to break the news to the crew.

* * *

The _Loki_ translated out of subspace into "normal" space. She was on an approach vector for _DS3_. Because she was a freighter instead of a starship she was placed into a holding pattern to wait for a commercial berth at the busy port. Everything seemed normal until T'Kir announced that a ship was hurtling towards them on an intercept course.

"Identify that ship!" Macen ordered, "Rab, stand-by weapons and shields."

"Brin!" sheer delight laced every one of T'Kir's words, "It's the _Obsidian_."

"Put her on screen!" Macen excitedly requested.

The _Obsidian _adjusted her vector and slowed to come up along side the larger _Loki_. She barrel rolled over the top of the freighter and came to rest on the _Loki's _port side.

"That's gotta be Rhiann." Grace opined with a bright smile.

"They're hailing us." T'Kir announced.

"Put it on screen." Macen directed.

The viewer switched to an image of Ro Laren wearing civilian clothes and sitting in Macen's chair. Macen was surprised and puzzled, "Laren?"

"Elias couldn't make it." Ro began by way of explanation, "He's…well he should be the one to explain it. It isn't good. He could really use a word from an old friend."

"He almost died, didn't he?" Macen was ruthlessly calm.

"Yes." Ro confessed, "He's recuperating but he's…well, he's old and he just isn't bouncing back like he could've in his sixties or seventies."

Macen knew Vaughn was 108 years old. Even with today's advances in human medicine that age still took a toll. They were going to have a lay over at the station and Macen vowed that he would use some of that time to contact Vaughn. After all, the careers had woven in and out of each other for almost fifty years now. He owed Vaughn the call.

"Thank you." Macen's gratitude was genuine, "I'll take care of it."

Ro's relieved smile revealed her true feelings, "I'd hoped you would."

"So," Macen's tone lightened, "are we receiving an escort?"

Ro grinned, "Of course. We _are _just two Outbound Ventures ships out for a stroll."

Ro's grin was infectious as he replied, "Then lead on, dear lady."

* * *

The airlock connecting the _Loki_ to the station slid up, revealing a small reception committee. Macen was surprised to see Captain Alfonso Reyes, the station's CO, prominently leading the entourage of well wishers. Reyes was the great-grandson of Diego Reyes, the famed first commander of _Vanguard_ station.

Macen stopped in front of Reyes and transferred his duffel bag to his left hand. He offered his hand and Reyes shook it. Leaning in, Macen whispered, "A little public, don't you think?"

"Never fear." Reyes grinned, "I greet one prominent visitor a week. This week, you're it."

Macen looked dubious, "Great."

"Smile." Reyes instructed, "You're on public holovid."

Reyes drew himself up and turned Macen so that he faced the cameras, "Outbound Ventures has earned preferential treatment aboard this station and today we extend every courtesy to Brin Macen, the founder of Outbound Ventures. I'm certain Captain Macen would be delighted to answer a few questions from the press today."

Macen could have sworn. Reyes' devilish delight was palpable even to a non-empath. Questions flooded Macen's perceptions and he took a moment to collect himself.

"Pardon me," he spoke in hushed tones so the newsies would be forced to listen, "I'll answer one question from each of you, starting with this gentleman to my left."

"Captain Macen," the reporter began gravely, "it is well known that you and your ships services are under exclusive contract to Starfleet. Does your presence here predicate an increased awareness of local conditions?"

_Here we go._ Macen sighed and began to answer the question, "I'm not familiar with Starfleet's strategy concerning this sector. That's a question for Captain Reyes. _However_, I can make an announcement that my exclusivity clause has not been renewed and my crew can now accept general contracts."

"Was there some dissatisfaction with your work?" The woman next in line asked.

"It was a simple matter of economics." Macen explained, "Starfleet had to retain us at half-pay even when we weren't actively assigned any duties. Since specialised assignments such as ours rarely arise within Starfleet's framework, that meant we were usually getting paid to do nothing."

"Would it be more feasible for Starfleet to retain exclusivity if you moved your base of operations from Barrinor to within the Federation's borders?" came the next question.

"You mean if we operated under the Federation's gift economy rather than the capitalistic framework of Barrinor?" Macen chuckled. The reporter nodded and Macen continued, "The Federation can easily afford to spend its latinum reserves. The question is: why should it do so unnecessarily? The mere fact that Starfleet has kept us on retainer should indicate that they intend to employ us in the future which further implies that they are satisfied with our competence."

The last reporter asked her question, "What are your predictions of Outbound Ventures' continued involvement in this sector as Starfleet moves towards annexation and the nearby Meirkus Conglomeration has elected Bertram Sindis chairman?"

Macen took a breath, "Starfleet's increased presence is always appreciated by those in my profession. It will be some time before there is no frontier left. Until that time, private entrepreneurs will venture out beyond their recognised borders and gamble on the unknown. We're primarily hired to protect these brave souls. As long as they're willing to dream, we'll go with them."

"So long as they pay." A reporter mocked.

"A price has to be paid somewhere." Macen calmly replied, "Better an economic cost rather than a mortal one."

"Captain…!" the reporters almost said in unison.

"No more questions." Macen let them down, "I have business to conduct."

The reporters dispersed and Reyes smiled wide, "Excellent, Captain. I knew you had it in you."

Macen grimaced and shook his head, "Remind me to hurt you later."

"Of course." Reyes chuckled, "Let me show you to your real ship."

* * *

"I can't believe Reyes wants to have dinner in three hours." T'Kir leaned up against the bulkhead outside their quarters on the _Obsidian_.

"I can't believe he asked us to dress formally." The door slid aside and Macen led the way into their shared space.

"Poor Laren." T'Kir lamented, "What's she gonna do? She doesn't have a single girly outfit to her name."

"She soon will." Macen smirked, "I sent her to the most fashionable boutique escorted by Kalista. She has orders to make the most of the next two hours."

"_Two_ hours?" T'Kir protested, "Dinner is in three hours."

Macen gave T'Kir a weathered look, "It's going to take Kalista an hour to get Laren comfortable in her new outfit."

"And Laren's goin' along with this?" T'Kir was amazed.

"She and Reyes are Academy classmates." Macen explained, "Apparently she wants to dress to impress."

"Could Ro Laren be on the prowl?" T'Kir looked positively wicked, "I'm goin' down the boutique."

"T'Kir." Macen scolded.

"I'll behave." She looked angelic, "I promise."

Macen rolled his eyes, "That'll be the day."

"So I can go?" T'Kir's excitement mounted.

"Who'm I to stop you?" Macen said balefully.

"Love ya!" T'Kir sprinted for the door, "Bye, bye."

"What have I unleashed?" Macen asked the bulkheads.

* * *

T'Kir arrived at the posh boutique and salon, Estrinne, and waltzed in. Guided by intuition and her own native telepathy, she swiftly tracked down Kalista and the unwitting Ro. Kalista was advising Ro as the sales associate was showing her gowns. Ro's interest had been piqued by a red shimmersilk evening dress and T'Kir resolved to convince her to buy it.

"Go on," T'Kir urged as she stepped up from behind Ro, "try it on."

Ro almost, _almost_, started, "Where the hell did you come from?"

"I need a dress, same as you." T'Kir replied.

"I thought you had dresses." Ro almost accused.

"On Barrinor." T'Kir explained, "In our line of work you rarely get the opportunity to wear an evening gown so I don't lug `em around."

"So…" Ro was hesitant, "you think this one could work?"

"You'll never know until you try it on." T'Kir prodded.

"Ah, what the hell." Ro groaned and followed the sales girl to the dressing rooms.

Kalista exchanged a smile with T'Kir, "So why are you _really_ here?"

"I'm here t'get a dress." T'Kir haughtily replied, "And to get the scoop on Ro and Captain Reyes."

Kalista's eyes twinkled, "Is there a scoop?"

"Hopefully." T'Kir rubbed her palms together, "Now how do I get service `round here?"

Three associates suddenly appeared and triangulated T'Kir. She smiled, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about."

* * *

While the associates were gathering a bevy of choices from which T'Kir could select, Ro appeared in the red shimmersilk gown. The dress featured a teardrop shaped diamond brooch with a diamond encrusted halter top. This highlighted a pleated sweetheart neckline. A gathered empire waist complimented the upper portions of the gown. Draped over Ro's form it possessed a slinky, fitted silhouette.

"Laren!" T'Kir exclaimed, "You're gorgeous!"

Ro actually blushed, "You think?"

"You know it." T'Kir prodded, "Just admit it to yourself."

Ro turned to Kalista, "What do you think?"

"You're lovely and very appetising." Kalista admitted.

"Can we afford it?" Ro wistfully asked.

"I guarantee it." T'Kir grinned.

* * *

"I don't know." T'Kir said as she twirled in front of the mirror, "I don't want to steal your thunder."

T'Kir wore an iridescent emerald gown. It sported empire style spaghetti straps and jewelled trim just below the bustline. It also featured low back decorated with beads and criss cross back straps. It was long and highlighted her curves.

"You love it and you should wear it." Ro urged.

Not requiring much persuasion T'Kir nodded, "I'll take it! Now let's get our hair done."

"I think you need to take the dress off first." Kalista chided her.

"Oh foo!" T'Kir pouted.

* * *

_Where is she?_ Macen wondered as he paced back and forth in their quarters. The door swooshed open and T'Kir breezed in. She carried several bags and her hair was cut much shorter and her make up was done. She spread the garment bag out across the bed and turned around and wafted her hands over her hair.

"What d'you think?" she eagerly asked.

It was a pixie cut. Her bangs were long enough to cover her eyes. The hair to the back of her head and neck was now tapered. It was a variation on a general style T'Kir had attempted before.

"It's a variation on a theme were familiar with. It's stylish yet playful. I really like it." Macen said to much anticipation.

T'Kir hurried to his side and kissed him on the cheek, "Wait until you see my new dress."

Macen marvelled at how she'd completely missed the fact that he was wearing one of his suits. It was a tad conservative but it warranted at least one compliment. The jacket in particular was a design marvel since it allowed him to wear a full sized holster and Militia phaser without drawing too much attention. However he couldn't, and wouldn't, deny his wife this moment of happiness.

T'Kir sprang forth out of the dressing room and presented herself in all of her glory, "Taa Daa!"

"You are gorgeous!" Macen opined and truly meant every word of it, "The dress is stunning as are you."

She kissed him, "Thank you, sir. Shall we be going?"

"It is that time, isn't it?" Macen mused.

"Wait `till you see Laren." T'Kir gushed, "You won't recognise her. Captain Reyes is in for a surprise."

"Does she want to surprise him?" Macen wondered.

"More than anything." T'Kir confided.

"This could be an interesting evening." Macen chuckled.

"You know it, babe." T'Kir concurred as they exited their quarters.

* * *

Alfonso Reyes was immaculate in his earth toned suit. He rose from his chair as the maitre de showed Macen and T'Kir to the appointed table. His eyes drank in T'Kir.

Reyes took her hand and kissed it, "Madam, you are a vision." He turned to Macen, "You are an extremely lucky man to be escorting such beauty."

"Not as lucky as you tonight." Macen gazed past Reyes' shoulder and the Starfleet officer followed his line of sight.

Ro stood revealed behind Reyes. Like T'Kir, her hair and cosmetics had been done. Ro's bangs were cut and combed to one side. Her raven hair now hovered two centimetres above her shoulders and was layered. She wore an uncharacteristically nervous smile and both Macen and T'Kir could feel Reyes' heart melt.

Reyes approached her and took her hand, kissing it he moved her hand to his heart, "I truly have never seen a woman as breathtaking as you are at this moment."

Ro was immediately flattered, "Thank you. I don't think I've ever seen you look so handsome."

"I tried to impress." Reyes admitted, "Have I succeeded?"

"Just as well as I have." Ro warmly smiled.

"Then I am the most beautiful man to ever live." Reyes chuckled.

Ro's eyes glinted with humour as Reyes guided her to her seat. Macen seated T'Kir and Reyes emulated him. The two men sat and a waiter appeared. The foursome ordered drinks and appetisers and Reyes grew rather eager as the waiter departed.

"I never thought I would be able to sit you all." He confessed, "Ro knows of my affections for her and she can rest assured that they have not waned over the passing years. But to have the three of you together, that is a dream come true."

Macen was intrigued, "Why is that?"

"My promotion to captain came as a great surprise to many." Reyes revealed, "When I was the XO aboard the _USS Stormhold_ and I actively endorsed the Maquis. I was actually taken off starship duty and relegated to station personnel. But from there I prospered."

Reyes expectantly glanced from one to the other, "Tell me what it was like to serve together."

Macen and T'Kir exchanged bewildered glances and then stared at Ro. Ro looked like a game animal trapped in the headlights but she quickly recovered. She began by recounting story of how her cell and others pilfered a hidden depot of ships. The story of how Ro had struggled to rein in the mad Maquis captain Rand and his Andorian XO freely flowed after that.

They finished the appetisers and ordered their meals as Ro began the story of how she and her cell faced down the mind controlling machinations of Tiro Anadis. The last tale, and the longest, was recounting how they had rescued the newborn Chrysalis child from the High Command.

"And she's still alive?" Reyes had to know.

"She'll be twelve years old in seven months." Macen reported, "Old enough to assume her throne."

"Will the Cardassians let her?" Reyes asked.

Macen shrugged, "There's a lot of internal pressure to allow her to return. The current Cardassian President, Castellan Ghemor, has been negotiating a deal whereby Katreen Dervin could mount her throne and be Head of State while the elected President would be Head of Government."

"It's worked before on other worlds I don't see why the Cardassians should be any different." Reyes commented.

"If it were an ordinary monarch it probably wouldn't." Macen surmised, "But since Katreen is the Chrysalis child of legend the populace is will to give her leeway…at least for a short time."

"Enough politics." T'Kir groaned, "Let's just have fun."

Macen wore an abashed smile and Reyes chuckled, "The lady knows what she wants. I'll tell you what, you tell me about life at _DS9_ and I'll describe my usual day. Throw in some stories from the life of a privateer and we could have an exciting time of it."

"Now you're talkin'!" T'Kir readily agreed. With a murmuring of consent, the discussion shifted and the mood became elated.


	24. Chapter 24

Grace entered the nightclub Riker had recommended and saw most of her comrades gathered at a central table. The table was located next to a large brazier that sported real flames fuelled by coals. Grace noted that the rest of the group had dressed down for the occasion.

None of them wore a strict uniform but each one had adopted a distinct manner of dress that replaced a formal uniform. Everyone mixed and matched pieces from surplus Starfleet uniforms and created a style all their own. Tonight, not one trace of that practice existed. Each appeared as civilian as any other sentient in the establishment.

Daggit wore an olive Henley with khaki pants. Radil wore rust and earth tones incorporated into traditional Bajoran weaves. Joachim wore a toga albeit with shorts underneath. Kort was the most shocking. The Klingon wore a suit and a silk tie.

Grace was still reeling from this when she realised that everyone in the group was staring at her. Grace had opted for a simple A-line black cocktail dress. It wasn't fancy but it was drawing attention. Dracas rose and escorted her to her chair. Having scooted her in, he returned to his own seat next to hers.

A waiter appeared and offered Grace a glass of wine. It was a Château Picard. Grace had first sampled the vineyard's offerings when she'd been a Starfleet cadet. She hadn't found them very appealing then, but taking a cautious sip, she discovered that she rather liked the label's Cabernet Sauvignon.

Grace quietly studied her friends. Despite having lived amongst humans for the past thirteen years, she still found their emotional ranges and expressions to be somewhat confounding. Moments like these allowed her to observe her friends' expressions and try and deduce their origins.

Kort, normally the most boisterous one at a gathering, was subdued. He quietly drank his _raktajino_, exchanged the occasional pleasantry or anecdote, but he remained strangely preoccupied. _Or maybe it's not so strange_. Grace reflected, _This has Haley Galloway's name all over it._

Kort had been quietly pining away for Galloway for several months now. Galloway seemed friendly enough and genuinely enjoyed Kort's company but Grace doubted, from her observations, that Galloway was ready for a romantic pairing. T'Kir had alluded as much after having a heart to heart with the human doctor.

Riker and Danan arrived fashionably late. Riker wore a burgundy tunic with black pants. Danan wore a sea green pants suit that complimented her eyes. Danan ordered her drink and then scrutinised the gathered host. She immediately narrowed in on Kort and asked him what was on his mind.

_Aha! Grace thought, Here it comes_.

"I must confess that I have been dwelling on our current mission as of late." Kort said.

_Oops!_ Grace managed not to blush, _Wrong again._

"How so?" Riker enquired after ordering his drink.

"The Captain's sudden bout of caution bodes ill." Kort explained, "Macen tends to plunge ahead regardless of personal risk. Our original ops plan called for us to complete our mission in the _Loki_. It is the natural choice for attempting an unobtrusive entrance into the Conglomeration. The _Obsidian_ is a known asset and many of the criminals sheltering on Mityr will remember her."

"T'Kir's awfully frustrated." Grace opined, "She's shared her opinion that the Captain is facing impossible odds this time `round."

Riker studied everyone at the table and then spoke, "Brin has already approached me. He's going to share everything with you all tomorrow aboard the _Obsidian_. I can't say much but I will share this: we are headed towards the greatest peril we've ever faced."

"Even worse than the Omicron?" Danan inquired.

Riker was grave, "Very likely."

There was some discontented stirring upon hearing that pronouncement. Riker tried to soothe their worries, "Brin has a plan that involves Starfleet. It can work but it will be risky."

"So it's not a solo operation?" Daggit asked, "We'll have support?"

Riker nodded, "The assets are already moving into place. They'll go at a moment's notice."

Kort leaned onto his elbows, "That is well and good but what are we sailing into? This team has blindly been led into disaster before. We've always been saved by blind luck but how long can this last?"

_That _comment created quite a stir. Grace flushed with anger, "You filthy coward! Why don't you…"

She was interrupted by Dracas placing a firm yet gentle hand on her shoulder, "I think the Commander wishes to speak."

Grace was far from mollified but she subsided. Riker wore a stern expression as he spoke, "I think we can all agree that our captain has a tendency to step into situations angels would qualm at. That doesn't mean they are insurmountable. We've survived every contract, every assignment, and every task we've set out to accomplish."

Riker took a breath and continued, "Brin has led us through every one of these campaigns. Relying on either his beloved Fates or his own intuition, however you want to label it, he's carried us through."

Kort started to protest but Riker halted him with his upraised hand, "I know better than most that we've lost souls along the way. I watched as my crew on the _Eclipse_ died. I sat by helplessly as Jamie died. I was taken captive for several months and left for dead by all of you." Riker's piercing gaze held Kort's eyes, "I _know_ we may not survive but I'm willing to take that risk."

Kort remained unmoved, "I wished to discuss this with the Captain first but now is as good a moment as any to inform you that this voyage is my last. Olympus Mons has offered me the opportunity to head up the Trauma Centre and I've accepted."

"Maybe that's for the best." Riker gently conceded, "You should be free to move on if you're unhappy."

Silence lingered long after that as each of Kort's teammates struggled to comprehend the full importance of what he'd revealed. The brooding was interrupted by Daggit clearing his throat.

"I hate to have to say this but as long as we're confessing secrets I have to announce that I'm also leaving the team when this mission concludes." He revealed.

A round of protests erupted around the table and Daggit quelled the noise with an upheld hand, "Parva and I discussed it and the decision is final. As you know, Outbound Ventures is opening an academy for privateers, investigators, and security agents. I've been asked to formulate a large percentage of the curriculum. I've decided to accept a posting as an instructor as well."

Everyone was at a loss for words but Danan recovered first, "I hate to see you go, Rab, but I honestly wish you and Parva the best."

"I think that goes for everyone." Riker added. The looks of betrayal on Radil and Dracas' faces belied that rosy picture but they readily accepted the fact that the decision was made and there was nothing that they could do about it.

"Sorry about the timing." Daggit glumly added, "It just had to be said."

Grace swallowed her first comment and smiled, "Rab, it's okay…really."

The waiter returned only to discover that most of his clientele had lost their appetites. Kort ordered a hearty meal and, smiling, encouraged his comrades to partake of some entrees. They followed suit but still ordered lightly.

* * *

"I think you may be insane." Reyes remarked with all due gravity.

"Admiral Drake approved of my plan." Macen countered.

"She's insane as well." An exasperated Reyes retorted, "Have you seen the undoctored file on Sindis? Starfleet Intelligence and the SID have been trying to infiltrate his organisation for years. All they've ended up with is dead agents."

"They all employed subterfuge to gain access to Sindis." Macen observed, "I'm not going to do that."

"What approach are you going to use?" Reyes was intrigued despite himself.

"Honesty." Macen happily replied.

"What?" Reyes was baffled, "You're simply going to fly in there and tell Sindis Starfleet has hired you to apprehend two of his crews and then you're going to simply leave if he says 'no'?"

"Essentially." Macen grinned.

"Madre Dios." Reyes muttered darkly, "I was right all along. You _are _insane.

Reyes composed himself and then tried a new tact, "What happens if he says 'yes'?"

"Then we spring his trap and hope like hell we can outwit him." Macen confided.

"Oh, yes," Reyes scornfully remarked, "_that_ is an excellent plan."

"You gotta try." T'Kir snapped back, "What've you accomplished by sitting safe in this station?"

Reyes and T'Kir stared at one another. Several tense seconds passed by and then Reyes finally broke into a crooked smile, "Who am I to judge? Perhaps, God willing, you can pull it off."

"I'll drink to that!" Ro chimed in with a lifted glass. The others joined her in her toast and the conversation drifted on to more pleasant things.

* * *

Seven men, two women, and one hermaphrodite moved quietly but with purpose through station. They converged on the entrance of Élan. Towards the rear of the nightclub the Outbound Venture's team could be seen. Tabitha Cristal, the team leader, ushered everyone off to the side and addressed them in hushed tones.

"This is it." She whispered, "As you know, this mission determines whether or not Sindis will offer a long term contract to Jixm's Razors. We have seven targets. That puts the odds in our favour. One shot one kill, that's our mantra. A prolonged firefight will only bring Station Security down on our heads. I think we all want to avoid that. Let's go in there and do what we do best."

"Ooo-rah." Came the hushed chorus. The group broke apart and headed into the club in pairs. Once inside the threshold, they spread out. The host went forward to address them.

"Are you here for the dancing and entertainment only or can I interest you in a meal as well?"

Cristal's icy demeanour stopped him cold, "Go away."

"A…away?" the host stammered.

"Shoo!" Cristal demanded. The host half ran, half walked away as fast as his four feet could carry him.

* * *

Grace's hearing was one of her attributes that people underestimated, ignored, or did not fully realise how acute it truly was. Blessed with auditory acuity rivalling T'Kir's, Grace easily eavesdropped on conversations spanning the nightclub. One such conversation was the exchange at the entrance.

Grace's dark brown eyes lighted upon the assembled mercenaries. They all wore long flowing coats reminiscent of T'Kir's favourite duster. Their eyes were hard and their hands were inexorably drawing towards the folds of their jackets. Grace knew she had to act

She sprang up and held, "Cover!" Grabbing hold of the table, she began to lift it. On the opposite side of the rising table Riker, Danan, and Kort also scrambled to their feet. Recognising the danger facing them, Radil, Daggit and Dracas assisted Grace and flung the table onto its side.

Radil roughly grabbed Riker and pulled him down behind the protection of the table. Danan and Kort also moved that way as Daggit found cover behind the upended furniture. Grace and Dracas sprinted across the way to rest behind a large column.

"What do those two think they can accomplish from there?" Kort wondered.

Radil wore a wicked smile as she pulled a miniature phaser pistol out of her pocket, "Oh, probably the same thing I can from here."

* * *

Cristal swore under her breath as she drew her team drew their weapons seconds _after_ the Outbound Ventures group went to ground. The element of surprise was firmly lost but perhaps they could still accomplish their mission after all. Turning to the Iotian Drizam brothers she began to issue orders, "Bellas, Tof, and Ab, move to the left and flank them."

Next she addressed the Hekian, "Meris, cover their advance."

Meris adjusted hir position and Cristal knew s/he would do hir job. Personally, Cristal hated the mangled personal pronouns involved with hermaphrodites. Meris was so picky and she knew that the Hekians' distant cousins, the Hermats, were just as finicky. Frankly, you could neuter and spay the whole lot of them in Cristal's opinion.

"Molk, Remy, and Garot, move on those detached personnel behind that column." Cristal ordered. The Klingon, Andorian, and Ferengi silently deployed. That left Cristal with her fellow human, Alice Witt, and her unit's single Romulan, Hadrian.

"All right, people," Cristal said with determination, "we hold the middle. No matter what else happens, we hold this entrance."

Witt and Hadrian vocalised their understanding and acceptance of their orders. Cristal was pleased with the entire group. She just wished she knew what kind weapons the Outbound Ventures people wielded. She supposed she'd find out the hard way in a moment or two.

* * *

From their concealed vantage point, Grace and Dracas observed the approach of the Klingon, Andorian, and Ferengi on their position. Grace slipped off her heels. Next she unzipped her top and reached into it. Withdrawing a compact phaser pistol, she kissed it.

"Thank you for that particular word of advice, T'Kir." Grace grinned.

"I have to thank My Lord Emperor for this one." Dracas agreed as he pulled a throwing dirk and a Bajoran Militia issue phaser pistol out of his toga.

Face puckered in consternation, Grace had to ask, "And where, exactly, did you hide those in that get up?"

"The less said the better." Dracas opined.

"Riiight." Grace deferred to his wisdom.

"What are they saying?" Dracas inquired.

Grace gave him a quizzical glance. Dracas rewarded her with a warm smile, "Not all of us underestimate you."

"The Klingon is boasting about he's been given the honour of the first kill. The Ferengi is complaining that the longer they stay here the less profit they'll earn individually. The Andorian is silent."

"Then I will kill him first." Dracas decided.

"The Captain would probably like to talk to these guys." Grace reminded him.

Dracas' features hardened, "One must perish in order to set an example to the rest."

Grace shrugged, "Fine with me."

"Shall we begin?" Dracas asked.

"One other thing," Grace thumbed her phaser's power setting up, "If they resist, we kill them. Right?"

Dracas smiled, "You think like a Roman."

"You have no idea." Grace replied.

* * *

The Andorian, Sevrem'yevret or "Remy" to his colleagues, proceeded with all due caution towards his target. His antenna were twitching. Remy knew this to be a bad omen. The last time that had happened on an op had been at Tigrid VII and what a _frinxing _disaster that had become.

Such thoughts only distracted him for the time span of a blink but it was enough. Dracas leapt out from behind the column and threw his dirk. Grace leaned out and fired. Remy went down grasping at the knife buried into his throat. Cerulean blood flooded his oxygen starved lungs and he slowly drowned in his own vital fluids. The last thing that his mind registered before slipping away was the fact that Garot already lay dead beside where he'd fallen.

* * *

The Drizam brothers witnessed the destruction of their mirroring probe. That distraction proved fatal. Radil cut down Ab and Tof while Daggit rushed Bellas and drove a dinner fork into his heart. Meris panicked, unleashing a torrent of disruptor fire at Daggit. He tried to keep the weapon's discharges from straying towards civilians and ended up getting struck down. Radil ended any further interference by shooting Meris.

* * *

Cristal, Witt, and Hadrian opened fire at both Radil's position and the column shielding Dracas and Grace. They steadily marched straight down on the upturned table while continuously barraging the SID defenders. Radil, Dracas, and Grace snapped of return fire as often as possible but the opportunities were rare.

* * *

"Someone must sacrifice themselves for the rest." Dracas grimly assessed, "I will go. Avenge me."

Grace slammed him up against the pillar, "Don't you dare run out on me."

Dracas was shocked by the vehemence in her voice, "But I…"

At that moment the firing stopped and the screaming began.

* * *

Richard Drake and the crew of the _Helios_ materialised on the landing platform housing Annika Ryst's runabout. Their welcoming committee was large…and well armed. Drake found it to be disconcerting. His crew grew unsettled as well.

Sindis drew up from the rear and he smiled, "You look rather apprehensive, Richard."

"The welcome was unexpected that's all." Drake admitted.

"The honour guard?" Sindis chuckled, "It was the least I could do."

Drake finally noticed the woman standing beside Sindis. If she were human Drake would guess that she was a Slavic beauty but it was Drake's intuitive hunch that she wasn't human. She possessed a fire and a vitality that Drake found daunting. She certainly didn't lack for confidence and Drake wondered if Sindis had finally met his match.

Sindis detected his scrutiny and gestured towards Ryst, "Let me introduce Annika Ryst. Ms. Ryst is a representative from our partners in the Orion Syndicate. She is here to see that our mutual goals are met."

Drake wondered just how many "mutual goals" Ryst was assisting with. Sindis was amused and Ryst bristled as though they could read his mind. Amanda had possessed that singular talent. That's why he'd had to cut loose of her.

"You seem to be missing one of your number." Sindis observed.

"Yes." Drake confirmed Xerxes' absence, "You know engineers. I'm captain of the _Helios_ but it's _his _ship."

Sindis smiled, "Yes. That does seem to be a universal constant. Pity. I'm hosting a small reception in your crew's honour. Nothing fancy. I'm just introducing you all to the staff."

It was Drake's turn to smile, "We'd be delighted."

"Good. Astris will show you all to your rooms and then lead you to the party." Sindis decided. One of his aides stepped forward and motioned for the privateers to follow her.

After they'd gone, Sindis and Ryst made their way towards the reception. Ryst was mildly intrigued, "Why does this crew rate all the special attention?"

"They are the cornerstone for my next plan." Sindis revealed.

"And what is that?"

Sindis stopped and presented Ryst with the most chilling smile she'd ever seen, "The assassination of Amanda Drake."


	25. Chapter 25

Molk bellowed in rage. He took aim at the tables to his right and began firing at bystanders. They began screaming and running for cover. Seeing an advantage to this, Cristal ordered Hadrian and Witt to randomly fire into the crowd to their left. Cristal continued to unleash a volley of fire at the table Radil, Riker, Danan and Kort sought cover behind.

Molk chuckled at the sight of the civilians fleeing in terror. It made him feel powerful. Powerful enough to single-handidly slay the two targets that had killed Garot and Remy. Molk actually felt something akin to remorse at their passing despite the fact that the Ferengi had been obnoxious and the Andorian had been insufferably smug. Even so, they had not deserved to die at the hands of their very own intended victims.

_We once outnumbered them but now they outnumber us._ Molk feverishly thought, _Their deaths will be glorious!_ He turned his head back towards the column Dracas and Grace were shielded behind only to find the emitter end of a phaser pistol pressed against his nose.

"Try something." Dracas coldly taunted, "Please."

Swiftly, Molk tried to raise his disruptor. Dracas shot him in the face. Grace eyed this dispassionately and focused her attention on the scene before the SID table.

"Dracas look!" she exclaimed.

Hadrian continued firing into the crowd while Cristal addressed the SID team, "Throw down your weapons and no one else will get hurt."

Riker rose, followed by Danan. Kort was seething as he stood. Radil slowly came to her feet, hatred eking out of every pour. Despite Cristal's word, Hadrian continued to pick off nightclub patrons.

Unexpectedly, a set of strong arms reached out from underneath Hadrian's arms. Rather than go for a headlock, the hands took a hold of the Romulan's jaw and base of his neck and twisted. The spine severed with a satisfying _crack_ and Daggit dropped Hadrian's limp form.

Cristal gaped at him in disbelief as Daggit rounded on her. She struggled to voice a command to Witt. Grace chose that particular moment to end Witt's participation in this affair. Cristal tried to shoot Daggit but he merely swatted the disruptor out of her hand.

Her mouth worked wordlessly. Daggit's fist smashed into her, lifting her off of her feet. Daggit checked the vitals of the prone assassin. Satisfied that she would be able to answer questions later, he scooped up a loose disruptor. Dracas, Grace, and Radil were already headed for Élan's entrance. Daggit hastily sprinted after them.

Grace turned the left corner at the nightclub's entrance. Phaser poised in a two-handed grip, she swept the Galleria with her eyes and pistol. Radil mirrored her to the right. Dracas and Daggit held the middle.

"Clear!" Grace announced.

"All clear here." Radil reported.

"Stand down." Daggit ordered, "Station Security is on its way. They can take over."

"We'd better secure the prisoners." Radil commented, "At least the ones that are still alive."

The quartet re-entered the club. Security entered hot on their heels. The privateers were disarmed even as Medical personnel began fanning out to the wounded. The station's Chief of Security, Lt. Commander Thomas Barclay, handled the investigation while the XO, Commander Sheila Hall, managed the overall crisis.

Hall hated to interrupt her CO's evening, knowing how much his reunion with Ro Laren meant to him, but her duty was clear. Tapping her comm badge, she spoke clear enough for the audio pick up to cycle her request through the main computer, "Hall to Reyes, come in please."

* * *

Reyes grimaced as his comm badge started chirping. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin and excused himself. He tapped the badge as he proceeded out of the restaurant, "Reyes here."

"Captain, this is Hall." He could hear the regret in his XO's voice, "We have a situation."

"Give it to me." Reyes ordered as he reached the Galleria.

* * *

"So what do you think?" a nervous sounding Ro asked.

"Of the man or his intentions?" Macen asked in return.

"Either." Ro waffled, "Both."

T'Kir laughed, "Honey, he's been carrying a torch for twenty years now. He's reaching a certain age and has decided it's about time to see what can happen."

"Really?" Ro wondered.

"He's awfully sincere." Macen added, "Even if things only progress as far as a one night dalliance that will still serve to satisfy some mutual needs."

"Good point." Ro ruefully remarked.

"Here he comes." T'Kir warned.

Reyes approached with a sad smile, "I'm sorry but I have to go. Duty calls. There's been an incident."

Macen was intrigued, "What kind of incident?"

"A shooting at a local nightclub." Reyes revealed, "It seems your crew was involved."

"Then T'Kir and I are coming as well." Macen informed him.

"Very well." Reyes consented. Turning to Ro, he asked, "And what of you?"

"I'll accompany you." Ro smiled, "Let's just say professional curiosity has me in its grip _and_ to be honest I have more experience dealing with SID happenstances than your people."

Reyes was delighted, "I bow before your expertise. If you'll all follow me?"

* * *

Radil glared at the Security officer waving a tricorder over her form _again_, "Listen sister, you probe me with that damn thing one more time and I'll shove it so far up your ass it'll register as a brain tumour."

Barclay pulled the ensign off the duty, "Any particular reason why you object to being scanned?"

"Yeah!" Radil snapped, "She's already done it four times now. Whatever she's looking for was never there or left a long time ago…sort of like my patience."

"Yes." Barclay smiled thinly, "She's going to scan you _again_. I suggest you co-operate or we will make you comply. Is that understood?"

Daggit caught Radil's arm as her fist flew of its own accord. Barclay chuckled, "Too bad. I would have enjoyed feeding you your teeth."

Barclay strolled away and the ensign stepped up to bat. Radil rolled her eyes and shooed Daggit away. While the ensign thoroughly ran the scanner over every curve, nook, cranny, and crevice of Radil's body, Radil recited every prayer chant she could recall. It still didn't help much.

Reyes arrived at that moment along with Macen, T'Kir, and Ro. Hall and Barclay manoeuvred towards Reyes in order to report their individual and collective progress. Hall began her report immediately by virtue of reaching her CO first.

"What's the status of the wounded?" Reyes asked, noting the stretchers and emergency services people.

"Almost all of them have reached the Infirmary and are being treated." Hall said, "Those remaining on scene are here by virtue of being triaged as a relatively minor case. They're mostly comprised of shock victims. The counselling staffers are sorting through them now."

"Any fatalities?" Reyes inquired.

"Twelve." Hall gravely reported, "There are three more likely fatalities being treated right now. The Med staff will report in when they know either way."

"Damn." Reyes grimly muttered before refocusing, "Station status?"

"We're on yellow alert with Security teams being on high alert." Hall said crisply.

"Commander Barclay," Reyes shifted his attention to the Security Chief, "Was this an isolated incident?"

"I believe so." Barclay assured him, "Using biometric data obtained from the suspects we have been able to partially trace their movements. They arrived on station a mere two hours ago. They then accessed the Security mainframe. This was done with some apparent ease."

Barclay paused to let the full import of his last statement sink in. When he judged that it had the desired effect he pressed on, "Using our own scanners and surveillance equipment, they tracked the Outbound Ventures crew to this location and attempted an ambush."

"Are we certain that the _Obsidian_ officers were the only target?" Reyes wondered.

"As certain as we can be at this stage of the investigation." Barclay hedged, "Their sole focus to this point was the privateers."

Reyes ignored the sneering quality placed upon Barclay's last word. His Security Chief's disdain for privateers was a long established position. The Captain didn't care what the Lt. Commander's private opinion was but he needed an objective perspective to be presented and he needed one right now!

"I see." Reyes replied, "May I ask why Captain Macen's crewmen seem to be detained?"

"They smuggled weapons aboard." Barclay reported, "I've been trying to ascertain how this was done before pressing charges."

Reyes couldn't manage to suppress a sigh this time round, "If you'd look up Starfleet's files on these individuals you'd see that they have Level 9 clearances. That grants them the same level of access and security clearances as a Starfleet junior officer. They didn't _smuggle _anything aboard. Their personal firearms are fitted with the same security transponders that are placed within fleet issued phasers. The computer registered them as friendly and so should you."

"I…I had no idea." Barclay admitted.

"You have a blind spot, Commander." Reyes informed him, "I expect you to work on that."

"Yessir!" Barclay snapped.

"Just to drive home the message," Reyes pointed at Macen, "see their captain addressing his crew? He holds a higher fleet security clearance than I do. He's responsible for his fair share of the intelligence coups that we've enjoyed over the last sixty years. The man's a hero. To insult his crew is to insult him and I will not tolerate that. Understood?"

Barclay nodded, "Info assimilated."

"Good." Reyes said with satisfaction, "Now what about eyewitness accounts?"

* * *

"I swear to all the Prophets," Radil growled to Macen, "if they point one more tricorder at me I'm going to forget that I'm now an honest citizen."

"Calm down, Jenrya." Macen tried to soothe her nerves, "Their security chief is an eager beaver with an axe to grind against privateers."

"Well, bully for him." Radil grated, "I still want to kneecap him."

"Before you pass judgement you may want to know a thing or two about Commander Barclay." Macen warned, "He grew up on a family owned Antares-class freighter. At seventeen he decided to enlist in Starfleet. His aptitude tests indicated a flair for security work but he managed to get involved in the engineering courses."

"Just as he was completing his ratings in engineering, his family's freighter was attacked and boarded by pirates. They managed to get a distress call off and it was answered by nearby privateers." Macen explained, "The privateers were green and bungled the rescue attempt. By the time Starfleet arrived both crews, freighter and privateer, were dead and the pirates had gained control of the armed privateer vessel and sailed off in it."

"Barclay applied to the Academy and was accepted." Macen revealed, "He accepted a Security designator and never looked back. He served under Jellico as a junior officer and was apparently a favoured student of his."

"Do you see how this all relates?" Macen enquired.

Radil unhappily subsided, "I'll behave."

"Your underlying protest is noted and appreciated." Macen smirked.

"Good." Radil huffed, "Does that mean there's a bonus in it for me?"

From behind him, Macen could sense waves of satisfaction rolling off of T'Kir. He turned to her, "Have you been coaching her?"

Adopting her best _Who me?_ pose, T'Kir innocently shook her head. Macen didn't believe it for a moment. Macen's retort was cut short by Riker.

"We need to talk." He said to Macen.

They stepped off to one side to confer and T'Kir and Grace began their own consultation. T'Kir grinned, "Mighty fine shootin' Tex."

"Got the low-down from the crowd?" Grace wryly asked.

"And from your very own highly esteemed colleagues." T'Kir admitted.

"Am I ever so glad you can't pick through my brain." Grace chuckled.

"It was mostly the ears picking up witness statements, so there." T'Kir stuck out her tongue.

Grace laughed, "By the way, nice dress."

"You too!" T'Kir said after doing a pirouette.

"You really think so?" Grace wondered, "I've had it forever."

"You should wear it more often." T'Kir advised, "It really highlights your curves and your shape."

"What about that gown you're wearing?" Grace asked, "Where did you get it? Oh, and I love your hair! I've been thinking about cutting mine. Do you think I could get the same stylist? And…"

* * *

Macen looked grim, "So they're both resigning?"

Riker nodded, sharing his commander's mood, "Yes. They're both pretty resolute about it."

"Rab's been waffling for a while now." Macen revealed, "His sense of duty towards us only outweighed his loyalty to Parva because he was living under the illusion that her health had stabilised. Now that that's been stripped away Parva comes first."

"Can't blame him for that." Riker opined.

"That's why I approached him with the teaching job in the first place." Macen confessed, "He wasn't ready to accept it before. I'm glad to hear he is now."

"What about Kort?" Riker enquired.

Macen frowned, "He's more of a surprise but he really shouldn't be."

Riker was confused, "Why's that?"

"Hayley Galloway has caused Kort to do a lot of soul searching as of late." Macen explained, "What he's come to realise is that he wasn't disgraced on the field of battle, an arena he's proven himself in time and again, but he was disgraced while performing a medical procedure. Kort obviously feels he still has demons to work out and that Olympus Mons is the place to do it."

"What's that mean for the ship and the team?" Riker wondered.

"The ship is covered." Macen assured him, "I'm having holoemitters installed throughout the ship. The warp core produces a surplus of power and can handle the extra load. Tessa can manage the shipboard cases."

"And the dirtside trauma?" Riker had to ask.

"Radil and Lees are both fully qualified medics." Macen replied, "Either one of them can stabilise a patient and prepare them for transport to the ship."

Riker scowled, "I'm not sure I like where this is going."

The corner of Macen's mouth twisted in a sly smile, "Have no fears Tom. Lees won't be going dirtside any more than her specialty requires."

The larger man was visibly relieved, "That's a relief."

Macen studied Riker for a moment before speaking, "If you're having these kind of qualms perhaps you two should discuss getting out yourselves. I'm looking for a captain for the _Indomitable_."

"Isn't that the ship named after Ro's Maquis command?" Riker wondered.

"The same." Macen confirmed, "She's an _Emden_-class escort."

"Tough little ships." Riker grunted with satisfaction.

"And thoroughly reliable." Macen agreed, "Our Letter of Marque allowed us to take possession of her from Starfleet with all of her systems intact. Her refit time will only last a few months."

Macen's 1st Officer ruefully grinned, "You're not making this easy are you?"

Macen wore a naughty grin, "It's not meant to be easy. You have three months to make a commitment. After that she goes to someone else. Confer with Lees and get back to me."

"I will." Riker promised with a smile, "Count on it."

"That's all I can ask." Macen replied, "Of course, I'd hate to lose my own starship driver but this'd be a great opportunity. One might even go so far as to refer to it as the fulfilment of a dream."

Riker looked surprised and then his initial shock began to turn into indignation, "Don't you start to…"

Macen held up a hand to quell his protest, "Reyes and his security chief are coming over."

Riker was nonplussed. Macen's back was to the Starfleet officers. Slowly, it dawned on him, "T'Kir tipped you off?"

Macen smiled, "Of course."

"And she's the reason you haven't asked me any questions regarding what happened?" Riker's unhappiness was bald.

"She scanned the surface memories of the team." Macen explained, "I know Hannah has left you gun shy regarding telepathy and mentalist powers. All she did was grab those thoughts the person was actively dwelling on. Fortunately, everyone seemed to be reliving the events that brought us here."

"It sounds harmless but I still don't like it." Riker grumbled.

"Shhh." Macen put his finger to his lips, "The game is about to begin."

Macen turned to greet Reyes, "Captain."

"Your people are efficient." Reyes ruefully observed, "They left two survivors out of ten assailants. Hopefully we can get something out of the pair we have in custody."

"Let T'Kir and I sit in on the interrogation." Macen requested, "You'll get something."

"Brin," Reyes was chiding, "you know telepathic confessions are regarded as hear-say evidence and therefore inadmissible."

"But they are unnerving and tend to prompt verbal confessions." Macen grinned.

Reyes looked to Barclay, who merely shrugged, "All right. We'll coordinate with you tomorrow."

"Thank you." Macen replied, "May my people leave now?"

Barclay's jaw worked but Reyes beat him to the punch, "You're all free to return to your ship."

"And only to our ship?" Macen inquired.

"For now that would be best." Reyes clarified.

"Understood." Macen turned to Riker, "Gather up the troops. We're going home."


	26. Chapter 26

Sindis joined Ryst in the Citadel's communication complex, "What news?"

"Jixm contacted us." Ryst informed him, "His agents have been captured _without_ scoring a single kill."

"Pity." Sindis blithely remarked, "It was expected but it's still a pity."

"You should have learned from my experience that underestimating these people is dangerous." Ryst commented.

"My dear Annika," Sindis graciously began, "I have never underestimated our foe. I have seen Starfleet's files on these individuals and this team. They are quite illuminating and that is why I have expected all our previous ploys to fail."

Ryst snorted, "I've seen their records. They're nothing special."

"You've seen the declassified portions of their personnel jackets." Sindis revealed, "Their complete reports are far more enlightening…especially Macen's."

"We paid for the complete files." Ryst protested.

"You were obviously cheated." Sindis remarked, "An oversight that I'm certain B'nner will deal with later."

"Perhaps." Ryst pondered the situation for a moment, "Are the files available and can I see them?"

"Certainly." Sindis consented, "I'll authorise your access and you can view them when you wish."

"There's no time like the present." Ryst decided.

"Very well. Choose your padd or reader and we'll upload the data." Sindis offered, "We have a delightful reading nook that offers beverages and snacks along with a quiet, comfortable den perfect for reviewing reports. Some of the staff even use it for recreational reading."

A slight smile tugged at Ryst's mouth, "Lead on."

* * *

Macen studied the image on the viewer. Elias Vaughn's features were displayed. For the first time in their decades long association Macen could only use one word to describe Vaughn. That word was _old_.

Vaughn looked all of his one hundred and eight years. He'd been robbed of his vitality and enthusiasm for life. All that was left was a broken shell of a man. Macen couldn't believe it.

"Elias," Macen managed to say, "what happened?"

"You mean Ro hasn't told you?" Vaughn asked good naturedly, "She obviously alerted you to the fact that something's wrong."

"She said you'd been hurt." Macen replied, "I had no idea… What happened?"

"I met your target." Vaughn laughed.

"Sindis?" Macen sought clarification.

"The same." Vaughn confirmed, "I encountered him on Cardassia III. He was overseeing an influence peddling racket. The planetary governor was selling favours and Sindis was brokering the deals."

Macen remained silent and waited for Vaughn to continue, "Legate Macet called in Ro and I since Sindis is wanted in the Federation and the Cardassian Union was willing to extradite him. We brought our own handpicked team of Ro's Security officers."

Vaughn sifted in his seat, obviously in pain, "Macet led the team charged with arresting the governor. I understand that was a bloodless operation. Our group wasn't so lucky. We'd tracked down Sindis to an estate outside of the capitol. He was guarded by a mixed bag of Cardassian troops and mercenaries."

"Macet had attached a squad of Cardassian special forces to our unit. Their presence stopped the Cardassian regulars guarding Sindis from firing on us but that did nothing to prevent the mercs from opening up." Vaughn described, "However, the sight of mercenaries firing upon loyal Cardassian troops inspired the regulars to side with us and subdue the mercs."

Vaughn managed a weak smile, "In fact, the Cardassian infantry troops rounded up and disarmed the hired guns. The SpecFor troops proceeded with us inside the villa. The scene in there was one of pure panic. Assistants and technicians of every sort and species were scrambling about, all looking for a way out. Most of our forces opted to sort out the mess. Ro and I pressed on."

"We found Sindis holed up in what turned out to be their operations centre. Two techs were visible. Ro went first. Sindis disarmed her and knocked her out with a single blow. He wheeled on me and swatted the phaser out of my hand. I blocked the follow through but it fractured my wrist." Vaughn's voice was hollow, as though he'd rewitnessed these scenes countless times already, "He smiled and said, 'A touch fragile are we? You are a legend Mr. Vaughn. Let us see if we can deconstruct a legend today.' With that he proceeded to try and beat me to death. He's as strong as an average Romulan. Twenty year ago, I could have handled him."

Vaughn, who'd been stroking his beard, ran a hand through his thick shock of white hair; "Hell, I could have handled him now if my damn bones weren't crapping out on me. I just can't take impacts the way I used to. I get stress fractures from my workout routines."

"The worst part is," Vaughn let loose of a nasty chuckle, "when I was laying there with every major bone in my body broken and struggling to mount some kind of defence he looked down on me with something akin to disappointment and said, 'It seems the legends ring false. I'll leave you to suffer Mr. Vaughn. You're not worth the effort of granting you an honourable death.' With that he and his associates strolled out of the room and somehow avoided any of our forces."

"Since then I've spent the last three weeks convalescing." Vaughn spat, "Even with regeneration it takes twice as long to heal as it used to."

"You could always pull an Admiral McCoy and have all of your bones replaced with polymer replacements." Macen offered only half in jest.

"I'm tempted." Vaughn muttered, "I've never been so humiliated, Brin. I've never been helpless before. It's disconcerting. It's shattered everything I've always taken for granted."

"You knew this day was coming Elias." Macen softly reminded his friend, "You've given lectures on it. The only difference between then and now is that it's you facing the inevitable."

Vaughn managed a rueful grin, "It is. All right, no more whining. How can I help?"

"You can get cleared for active duty." Macen replied, "I have an operation in the works and it involves Starfleet. It would be nice to have a seasoned hand directing the ground pounders."

Vaughn's smile was fierce, "Try and keep me away."

"I'll see you there." Macen smiled back, "Call me if you need anything."

The screen went dark and T'Kir shifted in her position in the Ready Room's couch, "Sounds like he took a pasting."

"Like he said," Macen brooded, "he's not used to being helpless. It's either humbling or it can break you."

"And in this case?" T'Kir's eyebrow arched.

Macen shrugged, "I'd bet on him putting up a fight and pulling out of it. On the other hand, his days of frontline service may well be behind him."

T'Kir nursed her coffee, "Too bad. I like him."

Macen grinned, "The feelings mutual."

Macen's face twisted in an expression of distaste, "Don't we have a briefing to be getting to?"

"In eleven minutes." T'Kir sighed.

"Want to go and claim the best seats?" Macen wondered.

"`Bout time you had a decent idea!" T'Kir declared.

* * *

Sindis checked in on Ryst, "How are you doing?"

Ryst looked up from her reading, "I'm beginning to have a new appreciation for the opposition."

"Excellent!" Sindis smiled, "Why don't you take a break and sit in on a meeting I'm about to have with Captain Drake and his crew?"

"Is my presence necessary?" Ryst asked.

"No, but I would be appreciative of an ally who came." Sindis admitted.

"Give me a moment to gather my things." Ryst began scooping up her padds.

"You needn't worry about refreshments." Sindis remarked, "We're joining Drake in the East Mess. Trays have been prepared as well as an excellent beverage service."

"A cushion for the inevitable blow that transpires when you tell Drake he's going to be killing his wife?" Ryst wondered.

"Nonsense." Sindis dismissed the notion, "There won't be a blow because he'll never be told he's doing the deed."

This met with some scepticism from Ryst, "And he's still going to kill her?"

Sindis nodded and Ryst exploded, "And how do you plan to accomplish this miracle?"

"My psycho-engineers have perfected the processes that made you what you are." Sindis explained with no small amount of satisfaction, "What took months to create you can now be done in a matter of hours. I speak, of course, of the mental conditioning alone and not of the physical augmentations. We're still adapting those."

Ryst's reaction was a mixture of horror, shock, and outrage, "How dare you?"

Sindis was ruffled, "How dare I what?"

"How dare you repeat that monstrosity?" Ryst snarled, "Angosia didn't create soldiers. It created monsters."

"That is all well and fine." Sindis' smile was decidedly cruel, "I need weapons, pure unwitting weapons _not _soldiers."

"And Drake and his crew?" Ryst demanded, "They simply take the fall?"

"They will have done the deed so it's not 'taking a fall'." Sindis remarked, "The mental conditioning will be discovered but it won't be traced back to me. One might call it a perfect scenario."

Ryst's eyes narrowed, "You're a despicable bastard. I've done some evil things in my life but none compare to this."

"Evil is a relative term." Sindis informed her, "This is merely a standard practice amongst my people. I just happen to excel at it. Come now, you'll see it's all for the best."

"I'd rather not." Ryst said, "I'll return to the reading room."

Sindis was disappointed and voiced as much before adding, "Do what you may."

"I will." Ryst replied, "For what it's worth, I wish them well. Maybe some divine being will take pity on them. Paradise knows they'll receive none from you."

Sindis watched Ryst depart in silence. After she'd gone, he alerted the comm centre to be on the watch for her making any transmissions. If she did they were to terminate the connection and revoke her communications privileges. He would then deal with her afterwards.

Sindis was surprised to discover how deep his disappointment went. He'd been alone since his banishment from his people. Ryst was something of an equal, or at least she had been until now. His lonely vigil would continue unabated it seemed.

Sindis' attraction had been platonic. He craved intellectual and emotional companionship. His physical cravings could be satisfied by anyone. What he sought was a kindred spirit and so far he'd failed to find a likely candidate.

Ryst's sympathies towards his underlings could translate into weakness towards enemies. A committed soldier would not harbour such sympathies. A true fighter would place the objective above all other loyalties or considerations. _That_ was the dedication of purpose that Sindis sought. Ryst had come close but like inhabitants of the Federation she had ultimately failed him.

Sindis composed himself and then proceeded to the mess hall where Drake and his compatriots waited for him. He had orders for them. Orders that would return them to the Federation and deliver them to Starfleet's eager hands. Sindis almost smiled at that thought but he controlled the urge as he entered the room.

* * *

Ryst ordered an espresso and then retook her previous seat. If Sindis expected her to try and contact Amanda Drake and warn her of his plot he would be sorely disappointed. Ryst had no love for Drake and certainly had no stake in her health. Her only objection was to Drake's husband being cruelly used and abandoned. Next time it could be Ryst herself and that she couldn't tolerate.

She'd considered contacting B'nner but if Sindis was having her communications monitored, and he undoubtedly was, then that would prove to be counterproductive. On top of it, B'nner was far away and even if he wasn't his power base was eroding. B'nner's advanced age, increasing infirmity, and desperate search for a suitable heir made him more of a liability than an asset.

Underscoring her restlessness was a pervasive loss of purpose. Ever since she'd been a teenager volunteering for the augmentation process, Ryst had served a cause. Granted, after the war and liberation from Angosia's lunar prison, her choices of mercenary contracts had only scratched the surface of that need.

Daveed B'nner had offered her salvation. He'd bestowed an overreaching mission upon her and given the means to accomplish it. Even when she'd accepted outside contracts she still served the needs of the Orion Syndicate. It had brought her the same measure of peace that fighting for her planet had done.

Those days were coming to an end. B'nner asked too many pointed questions about Sindis. He wanted to merge Sindis' organisation into the Syndicate and appoint Sindis as his heir. Worse yet, Sindis knew it and tailored his every reaction towards earning the reins of power.

Ryst had wanted to see Sindis as a faithful ally and as a potential employer but those fantasies had been shattered as she grew to know him. Sindis' ultimate goals still eluded her and that was worrisome. Like she'd mentioned to B'nner during one of their daily briefings, Sindis had political ambitions as well business objectives. As of right now, his ability to project his will was limited but with the Syndicate behind him his desires would be attainable.

Ryst knew she couldn't support Sindis. That meant that she would have to say farewell to the Syndicate. She'd already made the decision to do just that regardless of Sindis' assuming the throne or not.

Using her Celeste Rockford identity Ryst would be in a position to help people. That had been her goal when she enlisted in the Angosian armed services. To a degree it had been her goal with the Syndicate as well. It had just been subject to a narrower interpretation.

The only difficult part of permanently assuming the Rockford guise was that she would have to abandon her own name. Annika Ryst was wanted on Barrinor and in the Federation. She'd never be able to be completely herself again. Could she honestly live with that?

She thought long and hard about and came up with an affirmative answer. Being brutally honest with herself she realised that she was quite unhappy with who'd she become. If she weren't able to redeem herself under her own name then she would seek redemption however she could. Maybe she'd eventually clear her own name; after all, stranger things had happened.

Ryst shook herself loose of these thoughts and returned her attention to the padds she'd laid out in front of her. The history of Macen's group was fascinating. For the first time, Ryst wondered if she should oppose them or assist them. That was a question that haunted her.

* * *

"The plan is simple," Macen explained, "we proceed to Mityr and present ourselves as privateers hired by Starfleet to retrieve the two pirate crews that fled from Ekos."

"It's as simple as that?" Kort sneered.

"Let's discuss this privately." Macen rose from his seat, "Follow me."

Riker spoke up, "What about the briefing?"

"You know the plan." Macen remarked, "Carry on until I get back and I'll field any questions."

Riker looked pleased. His relationship with Macen had certainly evolved since the turbulent days of just a year ago. He turned to face the expectant faces staring at him, "Once we present our credentials we wait for Sindis to respond…"

* * *

Macen led Kort to the Klingon's quarters and waited for Kort to invite him in. Once the doctor did so Macen followed him inside and simply said, "Pack your things. I want you off the ship by 0800 tomorrow."

"What?" Kort exclaimed.

"Tessa can handle your responsibilities." Macen replied, "You can book passage back to Barrinor from here. It'll be on the company's nickel. Consider it part of your severance package."

"So I'm being dismissed." Kort growled.

"I'm excising a negative influence on the team's morale." Macen explained, "It's nothing personal. You want to leave and here's your opportunity."

Kort calmed himself, "It is rather convenient."

"It's best to go now before anything bad is said and animosities grow." Macen suggested.

"I will be ready by this evening." Kort declared.

"If you need lodgings charge them to Outbound Ventures." Macen said, "All part of the severance package."

"It has been an honour to serve with you, Brin Macen." Kort intoned, "May success and glory always meet you."

"Good luck to you as well." Macen replied, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

"I shall." Kort confidently declared.

* * *

Macen returned to the briefing room only to find all of the questions revolved around Kort. Macen explained the situation and made them fidget for several minutes before dismissing them. T'Kir, Riker, and Danan stayed behind.

"I can't believe they didn't have any questions." Macen muttered.

"They did but I explained that those portions were classified as the "I'm making it up as I go" sections of the plan." Riker laughed.

"And they bought that?" Macen asked.

"They know their captain." Danan sagely pointed out.

"I don't do that." Macen protested.

"Sweetheart," T'Kir gently replied, "some of your plans are nothing but that."

"It seems to work." Macen mumbled.

"Which is why the crew loves you." T'Kir enthused.

"Okay." Macen sighed, "Next topic?"

"Can we get off this tub?" T'Kir wondered, "Hannah wants a haircut."

"Find out of you can schedule a time for the stylist to come aboard." Macen suggested.

"Oh!" T'Kir blinked, "I hadn't thought of that."

"Better hurry." Macen urged and T'Kir raced away.

"Now what?" Riker wondered.

"You do whatever it is you want to do as long as it's aboard ship and I liaise with Reyes' staff." Macen offered, "T'Kir and I still have interrogations to sit in on."

"Fun." Danan sarcastically remarked.

"Actually," Macen smirked, "it could prove to be hilarious."


	27. Chapter 27

Marcine, the stylist, had an opening twenty minutes after T'Kir commed. She routinely came aboard vessels for private sessions with select clients. T'Kir's credit rating marked her as a 'preferred' customer.

Grace had chosen an asymmetrical bob with the right side of her hair being longer than the left. It looked good on her and both Marcine and T'Kir told her as much. The true test came when Daggit and Dracas ran into her in the corridor and fell all over themselves complimenting her. Grace took the compliments as intended, since neither man had ambitions towards her, and she smiled to herself as she and T'Kir proceeded to Macen's Ready Room.

Macen admitted them and he saw Grace's coiffure, "Hannah, you look amazing!"

"So what did I look like before?" Grace asked.

"I'm not falling for that trap." Macen replied, "You looked amazing before and now you do in a different way."

Grace nudged T'Kir with her elbow, "No wonder you like him."

"Yah." T'Kir grinned, "I think I'll keep him."

"Now that my future's been decided," Macen dryly remarked, "T'Kir and I have a date aboard the station."

"They're getting ready to take statements from yesterday's mercs?" T'Kir gleefully asked.

"Reyes and Barclay are waiting for us." Macen informed her.

"Later, Hannah." T'Kir said as she grabbed Macen's hand and began dragging him out of the room.

Grace laughed, "Have fun."

* * *

Macen and T'Kir joined the small crowd hanging out in front of Tabitha Cristal's cell. The massive bruise that had formed on her jaw before being taken into custody was gone. The medical officer's dermal regeneration treatments had cleared the soft tissues and the bone of all injury. Those tissues, however, were still quite tender and it showed.

"I'm not answering anything." Cristal belligerently declared, "My jaw hurts!"

"Whether you speak or not is up to you." Yancy, the young lawyer from the Public Defender's office, assured her.

"We're only taking a preliminary statement Captain Cristal." Reyes informed her.

"Major." Cristal coldly informed him, "My rank is Major."

Reyes did his best not to smile, "Thank you, Major. Our records seem to be incomplete. As I was saying, the purpose of our gathering is to take preliminary statements from you in response to the numerous witness statements that have accused you of murder and attempted murder."

"I have nothing to say." Cristal retorted, "Those witnesses are mistaken."

"You've been positively identified by every witness. They've said you directed the attack." Reyes pressed.

"What attack?" Cristal asked.

Macen quietly exited the detention facility as T'Kir approached Cristal's cell, "Come on, dearrie, why don't you tell them about the deal? Jixm's Razors get a nice fat contract with Bertram Sindis in exchange for killing the _Obsidian _officers."

Cristal was rattled but she quickly recovered, "You obviously have no proof or this little 'chat' would be of a different vein."

"Y'mean like if we knew about the padds containing your orders?" T'Kir asked with a grin.

Yancy protested, "Telepathic inquiries are considered hearsay and inadmissible."

"I'm aware of the law." Reyes reminded him.

A Security officer walked in at that point, "Sirs, we have a forensics team reporting finding a shielded compartment inside the mercs' ship. It seems to contain several padds and a cache of weapons."

"And how was this discovery made?" Yancy demanded.

"A citizen approached the team scanning the ship and tipped them off. It seems to have paid off in a major way." The chief reported.

"It does, doesn't it?" Yancy glared at T'Kir.

"Care to revise your statement, miss?" Reyes asked.

Cristal sighed, "Our orders were simple…"

* * *

Macen and T'Kir met up with Ro aboard the _Obsidian_. Ro had returned to wearing her Starfleet togs. She was radiant, glowing with inner happiness. T'Kir fixed her with a knowing smile.

"Had a good night, did'ya?" T'Kir relished Ro's blush.

Macen wrapped his arms around T'Kir's waist and pulled her close, "Never mind her, Laren. What counts is you had fun."

"Loads of it." Ro confessed conspiratorially, "With more to come."

"You go girl!" T'Kir enthused.

Ro took a bow, "I think I will!"

Macen stepped back and started to exit his shared quarters, "Congrats Laren. I'll probably get the dirt from T'Kir later. I have a meeting scheduled with Captain Reyes right now as we speak."

"Spoilsport!" T'Kir pouted as he left, "Now that he's gone, give me every nasty detail."

* * *

Macen's comm badge chirped and he tapped it, "Macen here."

"Are we supposed to be getting invaded by Station Security?" Radil asked.

"Not that I know of." Macen admitted, "Park them in the Team Room and I'll be there in a minute."

"Gotcha." Radil happily signed off.

"Now what?" Macen exasperatedly asked no one in particular as he proceeded down the corridor towards the turbolift.

* * *

Macen arrived in the Team Room to find seven Starfleet Security officers, Reyes, Barclay, and an as of yet unidentified Vulcan JAG officer. Radil and Abby Collins were also present. Chef, disgruntled at being confined to the ship while at a port of call offering delicacies, took out her frustration by cooking up a veritable feast. Macen wondered whether or not he should incur her wrath more often.

"Ah, Macen." Reyes called out with a smile, "Sorry but our meeting is taking place here and with witnesses."

Macen joined Reyes and his senior officers, "How can I help Starfleet today?"

Reyes deferred to the Vulcan, "May I introduce Lt. Commander Senecka? She's been assigned the role of prosecutor in this case."

Macen was intrigued by the Vulcan. She was roughly T'Kir's age but what was truly fascinating about her was that underneath her stoic veneer she was practically giddy with excitement. She offered the traditional Vulcan salute and Macen returned it. Macen sensed a delighted wave of emotion at that.

"If you wouldn't mind," Macen begged off for a minute, "I'd like to summon reinforcements."

"Of course." Senecka said coolly, "Please request the presences of you entire senior staff."

"Radil," Macen ordered, "gather up the team. I'll handle T'Kir personally."

Radil cheated by calling Riker who in turn summoned the others. T'Kir, at Macen's suggestion, brought Ro along. She and Reyes hovered near one another barely managing to avoid giving each other goo goo eyes. As for T'Kir, she also noted Senecka's aberrant responses.

_She's practically an emotional deviant._ T'Kir thoughtcast.

_Sort of like you._ Macen replied in kind, _Can you sense what she's thinking?_

_ She's a trained telepath._ T'Kir pooh poohed, _She'd detect a probe._

_Reyes is motioning for me to join him_. Macen thought, _Keep on the Senecka problem_.

Macen joined Reyes even as Dracas and Daggit entered the room. They saw the gathered Starfleet officials and immediately grew apprehensive. Kort came next, phalanxed by Riker and Danan. He was loudly complaining for all to hear that he was no longer a member of the crew and therefore exempt from interrogations.

"You would be except for the fact you are a participant in a violent action aboard this station and a witness to key events." Senecka informed him, "As such, your cooperation is requested and required."

"Who's she?" Kort demanded.

"She is the attorney assigned to prosecute the would-be assassins from Élan." Reyes answered, "She has a few extra questions as a result of this afternoon's interrogations and confessions of the suspects. When this is over, Doctor, you should be free to go."

Senecka turned to Macen, "We have brought numerous Security officers in order to take all of the statements at once and thereby liberate your crew as soon as possible."

"That's very appreciated, Commander." Again, she inwardly bubbled over with a gleeful satisfaction.

Macen telepathically queried T'Kir again. She still had no idea what was going on. As Senecka and Barclay began moving from one interview to another, Macen asked Reyes what he knew about Senecka.

Reyes smiled, "Not a whole lot. She only transferred to the station six weeks ago. She's reputed to be a brilliant lawyer. Hasn't proven to be a disciplinary problem but she did have some problems with the Vulcan Ministry for Orthodoxy."

"The what?" Macen blurted.

Reyes chuckled, "I'd never heard of it either until I ran across it in her records. Apparently when Vulcan was on the verge of attack during the Dominion War there were several outbreaks of mass hysteria. The government responded by actively enforcing logical behaviour. Thus the Ministry for Orthodoxy was born."

"And what did she do to run afoul of the KGB?" Macen wondered.

The historical allusion was lost on Reyes so he ignored it, "She has this talent for logically building a case while infusing it with irresistible emotional appeal. Apparently the Ministry thought she'd gotten too liberal with her emotional displays."

Somehow Macen doubted it but he remained silent and then Reyes started laughing, "She said you'd ask me these questions. See how good she is?"

_If he only knew_. T'Kir wryly broadcast; _She set this little trap especially for us._

_ Especially for _you_. _Macen amended, _Her emotions went off the chart when you arrived._

_Great,_ T'Kir dryly remarked, _a groupie._

_Don't laugh_. Macen warned, _I think you're on to something._

T'Kir was going to reply but something held her back. Macen knew she was seeing the same pattern he was and was beginning to suspect that this singular Vulcan's story was being duplicated en masse. As an unrepentant exhibitionist T'Kir could be something of a hero to these emotional dissidents.

Kort, Riker, and Danan got off lightly and were swiftly done with their interviews. As the principle combatants, Grace, Radil, Dracas, and Daggit were huddled together and asked group questions by Senecka herself. She soon ran out of these and dismissed them all. Reyes, Barclay, and the Security officers made to leave but Senecka begged off, stating that she had matters to discuss with Macen and T'Kir in private.

As the mixed SID and Outbound Ventures officers drifted out of the Team Room, Macen studied Senecka, "Would you prefer occupying my Ready Room? It's private and far more suited to group settings than our quarters."

"That would be acceptable." Senecka evenly replied but her emotional register spiked.

* * *

"I wonder if I should monitor Commander Senecka's conversation with Captain Macen?" Barclay remarked to Reyes as they left the _Obsidian_ behind.

"Monitor it?" Reyes was taken aback, "Why would you do that?"

"I've been coordinating with the Ministry of Orthodoxy on surveillance surrounding the Commander's activities and conduct." Barclay answered, "It's all SOP."

"Not any more it's not!" Reyes thundered, "If the Vulcans want to spy on their own they can do their own goddamned legwork! Am I understood?"

"Yessir!" Barclay snapped off.

"Spying on one of our own for no good reason." Reyes muttered as he walked off, "What have we come to?"

* * *

Once they'd reached the private confines of the Ready Room, Senecka's cool veneer disappeared. Running to T'Kir, she began to fawn and gush.

"I can't tell you how exciting this is!" Senecka could hardly breathe, "You're my idol. Well, actually you're the idol to most of us. I'm part of one of your fan clubs and we have over 7500 members. `Course, the Ministry also has spies in there but most of us are legit."

"A…a _fan club_?" T'Kir stammered.

"You'll have to forgive my wife's bout of unexpected modesty but you'll have to remember this all news to us." Macen interjected, "And before you rattle off again, would you like anything to eat or drink?"

"Sure." Senecka replied.

"Would you care to be more specific?" Macen laughed.

Senecka had the grace to blush, "Tarquillian tea and some shortbread biscuits please."

"Hon?" Macen asked after inputting Senecka's order.

"Hazelnut mocha." T'Kir replied in a dazed voice.

Macen delivered Senecka's items to her as she took a seat before his desk. Next he carried T'Kir's coffee to the couch were she sprawled. He ordered an eggnog latte for himself and then shifted his attention to Senecka.

"Now that you've totally unnerved T'Kir, perhaps you should explain what you're talking about." He suggested.

"Okay, it goes like this: a massive emotional exhibitionist movement has started amongst Vulcan youth. T'Kir, being a known, some say infamous, exhibitionist amongst government circles has become a symbol amongst the dissident youth. Her marriage to you is also something of a scandal since the Ministry must now approve of all alien marriages."

"Sarek must be turning over in his grave." Macen retorted.

"Exactly!" Senecka replied, "To make matters worse for the Ministry, T'Kir is a highly successful and highly respected individual. That makes the Ministry look bad."

"So what do they plan on doing about it?" Macen asked.

"Your basic smear campaign." Senecka shrugged, "Followed up with increased prosecution of offenders."

"Hold on," T'Kir was suddenly back in the game, "what can this Ministry do?"

"The Ministry can apprehend a suspect and then make them appear before a tribunal." Senecka replied, "The tribunal is charged with determining the extent of guilt and devising an appropriate punishment. The punishments are lessened if the guilty party recants of their delinquent ways."

"Is anyone ever innocent?" T'Kir asked with an edge to her voice.

"Of course not." Senecka laughed, "What good are the guardians if they aren't defending society from perfidy at every turn?"

"Point taken." Macen conceded, "The first rule for any organisation is that it must guarantee its own continued existence."

"You mentioned 'punishments'." T'Kir pointed out, "What kind of punishments can they dish out?"

"Loss of position, exile to a penal colony, public humiliation, and the like." Senecka revealed, "I was threatened with being expelled from Starfleet and being shipped off to a penal colony."

"Since when does Vulcan have penal colonies?" T'Kir demanded to know.

"They currently have five." Senecka explained, "The populations and cottage industries are kept below the viability point thus making them dependent upon the mother world."

"I'm assuming they'd get you out of Starfleet by branding you a criminal under the laws of your native world." Macen added.

"Precisely." Senecka confirmed it, "It's a neat little trap that they have going for them."

"I knew there was a reason why I hated these _frinxing _bastards." T'Kir growled.

"Please," Senecka grew concerned, "do not become actively involved in the resistance. This is a battle only Vulcan can fight. Your influence is best used by showing that emotional release isn't a fallacy. If you can successfully embrace them so can we."

"You used the term 'resistance'." Macen said, "Care to elaborate on that?"

Senecka blushed, "It is a philosophical movement back on Vulcan. It relies upon the maxim of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations and stresses that we are all equal no matter our temperament."

"Y'sure y'don't want me speaking at a pep rally?" T'Kir asked.

"If we ever have one I'll be sure to call." Senecka smiled.

"Name the time and place and I'll be there." T'Kir promised.

"Now I suppose I've worried Commander Barclay long enough." Senecka wore a wan smile, "Time to put my 'game face' on."

The transformation was startling and the SID officers said as much.

"Thank you." Senecka replied dispassionately, "If I may be escorted to the airlock?"

Macen paged Kalista and then explained, "It'll look better of one of our subordinates takes you to the lock."

"Agreed." Senecka said and then departed as the Deltan yeoman took her in tow.

T'Kir ordered another drink and curled up on the couch, "Scary stuff."

"The war changed a lot of people and a lot of governments." Macen opined, "Vulcan appears to be no exception."

"But regulating conduct?" T'Kir protested.

Macen softly chuckled, "That's what criminal codes do. They establish what codes of conduct and behaviour will be tolerated and even encouraged by society at large. This is just that practice taken to its logical extreme and you know how Vulcans are for logic."

"The Federation can't know about this." T'Kir sought an avenue of attack.

"Vulcan probably filed the paperwork for incorporating a new law enforcement agency long before they began to assemble personnel. It'll be considered an internal matter and left alone."

"This sucks!" T'Kir hotly declared.

"True." Macen agreed, "But Senecka's way is best. It's a domestic issue for Vulcans. Let them sort it out."

"But I'm a Vulcan too." T'Kir argued.

"But you're not a Vulcan citizen." Macen reminded her, "You're a citizen of Shial. You've maintained your citizenry despite the fact that no one lives there any more. Which is a good thing."

"Cus otherwise I'd be sitting it out on some penal colony." T'Kir realised.

"Exactly." Macen encouraged this realisation, "So, we're stuck here for the rest of the day. What do you want to do?"

"Let's download some films from one of the shops on the Galleria and host a movie night for the crew." T'Kir was all enthusiasm again.

"Sounds like a plan." Macen was growing enthused as well, "Any thoughts?"

"Well, I heard…" T'Kir began.


	28. Chapter 28

The following day Starfleet Security determined that there were no further threats to the _Obsidian_ crew aboard the station. Macen granted liberty to a grateful crew. He and T'Kir took the opportunity to see Ro and the _Loki_ off. Reyes, as expected, was there finishing up his farewells. When the Station CO moved off, Macen and T'Kir made their goodbyes.

Macen handed Ro a padd, "Transmit this to Elias."

"Why don't you transmit it yourself?" Ro asked.

"I have a feeling my flash traffic is being monitored." Macen admitted, "I don't want to alert whomever to the fact that I'm bringing Elias into this."

"All right." Ro conceded, "When are you shoving off?"

"Tomorrow." Macen revealed, "I'll give the crew one night of decadence and then it's mission time."

"You're all heart." Ro said sarcastically.

"Take care, Laren." Macen said, "May your voyage be brief and uneventful."

"And may you be swiftly reunited with your honey." T'Kir grinned.

"Thanks…both of you." Ro made her way aboard the ship and the airlock sealed behind her.

"Well, there she goes." T'Kir quipped.

"We'll see her again." Macen replied.

"There you go again!" T'Kir rattled off, "Tellin' the future. Maybe I don't wanna know if I'm gonna see her again. Ever think of that?"

"Nope." Macen replied.

"Maybe you should." T'Kir huffed.

"I'll keep it in mind." Macen promised.

"Good." T'Kir was mollified as they strolled away.

* * *

Pensively, Reyes returned to his office and commed Admiral Drake. Ambril intercepted the call and informed him that the admiral would return his call within the next hour. Reyes busied himself amongst reports and the comm chimed before he expected it to.

Drake's visage appeared on his screen, "Alfonso, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've just received my orders." Reyes was angry, "I don't like them."

"The orders stand." Drake firmly replied, "If Captain Macen or the _Obsidian_ request assistance from you while they are in the Meirkus Conglomeration they are to be denied."

"You want me to abandon them?" Reyes demanded.

"If holding to the designated border means abandoning them, then yes, I want you to abandon them." Drake held her position.

"I won't do it." Reyes declared.

"_Captain_," Drake stressed his rank, "If you disobey this order you will be court-martialled, understood?"

"Understood, _Admiral_!" Reyes spat out her rank as he terminated the connection.

* * *

Drake stared at the screen for a moment and regretted using Reyes in this fashion but what had to be done had to be done. She activated the intercom, "Ambril, inform Admiral Nechayev that Captain Reyes has taken the bait."

* * *

The day and evening went well for the _Obsidian_ crew. When their departure call came though the next day they were well rested and prepared. Reyes came down to see them off but he was distracted and irritable. Macen and T'Kir were glad to be leaving by the time Reyes finished his last impassioned plea for them to abandon their plan.

Macen wished the Captain well and boarded the _Obsidian_. T'Kir imparted some last minute dating tips for dealing with Ro Laren and then followed her husband aboard ship. The security officers stationed at the lock sealed her up and the station's automatic relays triggered, cutting off the ship from the station. Reyes swore to himself and then dejectedly returned to his office.

An hour and a half later, the _Obsidian_ was clear of _DS3_ and making her way down an approach vector for Mityr. It was a least time approach but that still put it in the heart of Federation traffic bound for the Conglomeration. This pleased Macen. The chances of a violent encounter before their arrival at Mityr were cut down. What their reception would be upon reaching Mityr was anyone's guess.

The ship seemed a little colder not having Kort aboard. He'd served with Macen since before there was a SID. Only T'Kir had been with the team that long.

Tessa was excited to be taking over but sad to see Kort go. Hearing news of the holoemitters being installed in every space, crawlspace, and broom closet made her excitement grow. Macen had never encountered a giddy hologram before.

Macen had hidden away in his Ready Room throughout the disembarking from the station and during the trip to the Conglomeration's border. When they passed by the border patrol with only routine questioning, he finally began to relax. He called Riker in to join him.

"Sit down, Tom." Macen offered a chair. Riker took the couch. Macen grinned, "Don't let T'Kir see you do that."

"Actually," Riker's eyes sparkled, "I was going to suggest that you call her in."

Macen's expression became conspiratorial. He moved back behind the desk and summoned T'Kir. She bounded in and made for the couch. She suddenly stopped and she looked very confused.

Riker burst out laughing. T'Kir studied him for a moment and then frowned, "One big laugh at my expense, huh? Well, I know your number." She wheeled on Macen, "And _you_, going along with this juvenile little prank… Me and you. Later today it's gonna be me and you. Now don't call me unless you need me. No more wasting my time. Got it?"

She stormed out and Riker completely fell apart laughing, "Girl's got attitude."

"You're just now discovering this?" Macen dryly asked.

"Hell, Brin, I didn't mean to get you in trouble." Riker began to compose himself.

"Yes, you did." Macen calmly remarked, "But T'Kir and I spat all the time. We'll survive this."

Riker ran a hand through his greying hair, "Now that we're not distracted what did you call me in here for?"

"I just wanted to know if you'd thought any more about the captaincy of the _Indomitable_. She needs a skipper and she needs the best. Tempted yet?"

"You know I am but that would mean over half the team leaving you." Riker pointed out, "Can you cope with those losses?"

"I have plans." Macen replied.

"I've heard you say that when the team breaks apart you'd retire." Riker reminded him, "Does that still hold?"

"Retirement from active duty is still a ways off." Macen grinned, "I have plans."

"So you keep saying." Riker frowned, "Any hints?"

"Any decision on the _Indie_?" Macen asked.

"Lees and I decided to make the move." Riker revealed, "Now, hint?"

"My plans remain secret for now." Macen smirked, "They will be revealed in the fruition of time."

"You can really be a pain in the…" Riker was interrupted by his comm badge. He swatted it, "Riker."

"Commander," Grace's voice lilted into the room, "you wanted to be informed when we dropped out of warp."

They'd been travelling at warp 6 for over five days. It was time for them to have reached Mityr's home system. The profusion of navigational hazards required that all incoming starships drop to impulse at the system boundary.

"I think I'll join you on the bridge." Macen said.

"Thanks, Hannah." Riker offered, "We'll be right out."

* * *

"All right, Enrick Gaston," Sindis said pleasantly to the watch officer, "Why have you summoned me?"

The Lantilian wasn't fazed by the use of his surname, "Lord Sindis, the outer marker buoys have detected a vessel matching the description of the ship you marked for observation."

"A Federation _Nova_-class science ship?" Sindis asked, "Registered to Outbound Ventures, Incorporated and bearing the name _Obsidian_?"

Gaston nodded, "Exactly as you specified."

Sindis' smile grew, "Watch her closely. Do not impede her or molest her but be on guard. If she reacts with any hostility, destroy her."

Gaston bowed his head, "As you say, My Lord."

* * *

Macen sat in the Captain's chair and felt like an intruder. He marvelled at how few of the bridge officers he knew. There was Riker of course. Grace sat at her usual place at the Helm. Danan manned the Sciences station. Tactical, OPS, and Engineering were manned by faces Macen vaguely recalled.

As the SID team specialised more and more the less time they spent in serving shipboard functions. T'Kir and Daggit were rarely seen on the bridge. Radil was relying more and more heavily upon Abby Collins. Even Dracas was seen less and less often in Engineering.

One familiar face on the bridge was the relief helm officer. Ceryx stood at the MSD display and patiently waited his turn at the controls. Macen knew that the Tyrokian spent these wayward times drifting in and out of sleep. He'd come to in an instant and only required one solid hour of sleep but the intermittent naps helped keep his brain cool.

Tyrokians had the highest mineral count of any humanoid species, outside of Omicrons, known in the galaxy. Ceryx was essentially a semi-silicon based crustacean. His brain could overheat from overusage and this would render him deaf, dumb, and illiterate. Ceryx functioned best in the cold and his quarters were refrigerated.

Sitting was difficult for Ceryx so he usually stood. To man the helm he knelt. His carapace was so leavened with minerals and stone he was effectively immune from low and medium phaser settings.

What Macen appreciated most about Ceryx was his attitude. Ceryx could be absolutely relied upon to fulfil his duties. He was a rock in body and being. His cool demeanour often influenced his more volatile crewmates. Macen knew that Ceryx would always be a welcome addition to his crew and possibly even the SID team.

The _Obsidian_ had flown through the outer system. She was coming up on the debris field that surrounded the inner system. The remains of the fourth planet were scattered amongst rubble of the starships and space stations. An outer boundary of debris also encircled Mityr. It was at this point that a traffic buoy challenged them.

"Mityr Traffic Control to starship _Obsidian_." A mechanical sounding organic voice rattled off, "Please state your business."

Riker began to speak but Macen waved him off, "This is Captain Brin Macen. Please inform Lord Sindis that our business is trade."

"What kind of trade?" The voice asked.

"Latinum for lives." Macen replied.

* * *

Sindis' smile became lupine, "I wonder if he truly means it? It is an offer I would consider."

Gaston looked askance, "Truly?"

"Of course!" Sindis laughed, "I am a businessman first and all offers must be honestly considered."

"As you say, Lord." Gaston bowed.

"Clear a lane for them." Sindis ordered, "I want to hear their proposal post haste."

* * *

"We are transmitting instructions." The voice informed the _Obsidian_ staff, "Do not deviate from this vector."

A moment passed and then the OPS officer reported that the comm link had been broken. Riker commented, "You certainly got their attention."

Macen shrugged, "We'll see. I'll be in my Ready Room. Call me if we face a life threatening peril."

"Yes, Sahib." Riker chuckled.

T'Kir arrived on the bridge, stuck her tongue out at Riker, and proceeded directly to the Ready Room, "All right, Macen, I have only one thing to say to you."

Macen sat atop his desk, "Really?"

"I love you!" T'Kir gushed, "That apology letter made me to cry."

"Not what I intended but I'm glad that it moved you." Macen moved to his wife and wrapped her in his arms.

"Next time, don't be such an idiot." T'Kir ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." Macen murmured into her hair.

"D'you think…?" she started to ask.

"No time for that." Macen burst her bubble, "In case you hadn't noticed, we're there."

"I heard a rumour to that effect." T'Kir sighed, "By the way, Tessa forgives you as well."

"I wondered where you'd go with Hannah being occupied." Macen mused.

"Stop trying to figure out how I'll react." T'Kir warned, "It gets you into trouble."

"Yes, dear." Macen kissed her. It lengthened and grew in intensity. They parted and each sighed.

"That's a promise for later." Macen remarked.

"I'll hold you to that." T'Kir advised.

Macen's comm badge chirped, "Now what?"

"Riker here." Came the 1st Officer's voice, "We're slipping into orbit over Mityr. Sindis is on the line for you."

"Route it to my terminal." Macen requested.

"This should prove informative." T'Kir said as she curled into the couch.

"Won't it though." Macen murmured.

* * *

"Sorry Ceryx," Grace said as she rolled her chair back to make room for the Tyrokian, "I haven't left you much to do."

"That is fine Little One." Ceryx employed his pet name for her, "I shall content myself with identifying the other vessels surrounding us."

"Good luck with that." Grace laughed.

* * *

"So," Sindis purred, "We finally lay eyes upon one another."

"Close enough." Macen remarked.

"Why are you here, Captain?" Sindis cut to the chase, "Your reputation hardly lends itself to lightly travelling to such disreputable locales."

"Several days ago a pair of Miradorn raiders would have arrived here." Macen explained, "I can transmit their warp signatures to you. My desires are simple: I wish to apprehend the crews of these ships. The system they ravaged is offering a generous bounty in exchange for their capture. I've been contracted to take these sentients prisoner. I'm willing to offer you the bounty in exchange for their surrender."

"How generous is the bounty?" Sindis was intrigued.

"Fifty thousand bars." Macen revealed.

"That is generous." Sindis opined, "What provokes your generosity?"

"I'm being paid to bring them in by Starfleet." Macen admitted, "The bounty is surplus. Call it a means to conduct a fair trade."

Sindis pondered it for a moment, "Send me the warp signatures. I will locate the vessels and their crews. I will surrender them once they are all secured. In the meantime, why don't you and some of your officers dine with me tonight? Dinner will be served in three hours. Can you make it?"

"We'll be there." Macen promised.

"Excellent!" Sindis enthused, "This will be an evening to remember."

"It certainly will." Macen agreed and terminated the connection, "It will indeed."


	29. Chapter 29

Macen, T'Kir, Daggit and Radil materialised on the executive landing platform storing Annika Ryst's runabout among others. They were met by one of Sindis' "Honour Guards". The sight of the armed SID team alarmed the guards and they waved their weapons about while yelling orders. The Federation agents stood their ground and ignored the threats. Sindis arrived fashionably late and he clapped his hands as he laughed.

"Delightful, Captain." Sindis remarked, "Never has one of my guests been so audacious. Seeing as how you are hopelessly outnumbered I shall permit you to retain your sidearms."

"You're too kind." Macen smarted off.

Sindis was strangely pleased by the comment, "If I may introduce one of my other guests?"

T'Kir took in a sharp breath. Macen soon discovered why as Annika Ryst emerged from the crowd of guards. She was also armed and wearing an olive drab pair of coveralls. Her emotional flavour was one of conflicted confusion. She honestly didn't know how to react to the SID team.

"Annika." Macen said by way of greeting.

Ryst's usual poise was shattered as she unsteadily replied, "Macen."

Macen sensed a wave of resolve pass through Ryst as she turned to Sindis, "Excuse me Sindis but I have a private message for Captain Macen."

For the first time, Sindis' aura of dominance slipped, "Yes, of course. I'll give you a moment."

After Sindis had passed out of earshot, Ryst grew urgent, "You have to leave. Now! He's going to kill you all."

"Of course." Macen laughed, "That's the game."

"So you're staying?" Ryst was crestfallen.

"We'll be fine." Macen assured her, "Sindis won't start anything until it's sporting."

"But…" Ryst hesitated as Sindis returned, "I guess you're right."

"Now, you hardly seem like mortal nemeses." Sindis opined.

"Enmity makes for strange relations." Macen replied.

"It does indeed." Sindis mused, "But enough of this. If you will follow me I will show you to the East Mess."

"We'd be delighted." Macen took hold of T'Kir's hand and followed Sindis. Ryst waited until everyone had passed by and then proceeded to her runabout. She had some calls to make.

* * *

"So," Sindis began as he swirled a glass of wine, "you were sent here by Starfleet but not to apprehend me."

"Technically Starfleet didn't send me here." Macen corrected him, "An Outbound Ventures ship was contracted to investigate commerce raiders in the Grannuck sector. This led to an encounter with five Miradorn raiders of unknown registration. Three were captured or destroyed and the remaining two fled the sector. Our ship pursued up until the raiders entered Conglomerate space."

"And why didn't they continue pursuit?" Sindis enquired.

"They were a crew with a prototype vessel." Macen explained, "It was decided at a corporate level that a more experienced ship should take over."

"That corporate level being you." Sindis mused. After a moment Sindis eyed Macen, "You are aware that there a great many holes in your story. My people place you in the Grannuck sector at the time of these events and they are usually right." Sindis' eyes narrowed, "What I find most distressing is that this all has the stink of the Special Investigations Division about it. Tell me, what will you do if I refuse to hand over the pirates?"

"I'll return to the Federation and let Starfleet handle the problem." Macen replied.

Sindis laughed in delight, "I believe you would! I wonder how the tenacious Amanda Drake would respond to that?"

Macen hesitated and Sindis smiled benevolently, "You'll be betraying no confidences, Captain. I have seen your file…your undoctored file. I am well aware of the true nature of your relationship with Starfleet. I also know that you are aware that I have neutralised three SID teams in the past and have no fear of you. You may as well become more candid with me or I will summarily decide against you and you will return to the Federation empty handed."

Macen smiled at that, "As long as we're being candid, we both know you won't release those crewmen into my custody. You can't afford to."

This amused Sindis, "And why can't I?"

"Because," Macen began, "rather than serving by oath or common principle like in an organisation like Starfleet or the Enforcers, your forces serve for profit and protection. They serve you in particular because you provide an ever increasing amount of both. You can't violate the protection clause by handing some of your men over to me without disaffecting the rest."

"True," Sindis admitted, "but that much latinum would further my larger goals."

"May I ask what those would be?" Macen enquired.

"I wish to expand the Conglomerate and create a truly viable political force. A collection of worlds to rival that of the Federation or the aegis of the Iridian Enforcers." Sindis revealed.

"And what will you do once this goal is achieved?" Macen wondered.

"Then the Conglomerate will reach an accommodation with the Federation." Sindis' smile turned feral.

"Using your expanded criminal enterprises as leverage to force the Federation to the bargaining table." Macen surmised.

Sindis wore a rueful expression, "Ever the analyst, eh Captain?"

"I'm no threat to you…at least not to your short term goals." Macen stated, "I'd gladly settle for the captains of those pirate craft and leave the rest to your tender mercies."

"Primarily because your brig is to small to accommodate any more prisoners." Sindis chuckled.

Macen shrugged, "We all have reasons behind our reasoning."

"One of my reasons is the influence of Robhurt B'nner." Sindis admitted, "He wants you dead and I want to be named his successor."

"So," Macen felt regret, "he's finally thrown off the cloak of detente."

"B'nner is under extreme pressure to prove his viability as a leader. Accomplishing your death is seen as a measure of competence." Sindis explained.

"And why am I such a threat to the Orion Syndicate?" Macen wondered.

Sindis laughed in delight, "Surely you are not so monumentally naïve? You killed Daveed B'nner. He was seen as the best of both the old and new generations of Syndicate associates. Although he was officially the don of the Syndicate's Alpha Quadrant operations he had largely assumed his father's mantle and the Syndicate was rolling in latinum as a result. His death was felt by all and you are seen as the cause of all their misery."

"I'd gotten that impression." Macen wryly quipped.

"Robhurt B'nner has no desire to hunt you down but if he loses control of his succession then the Syndicate will fall onto itself like wild _targs_ and the organisation will be ripped apart."

"And this is a bad thing?" Macen asked.

"Is it better to face the enemy you know rather than the foe you have not yet imagined?" Sindis mused, "The resultant chaos would create a new breed of super criminal the likes of which you have never encountered."

"Sounds like you and your setup." Macen replied.

"I'm flattered that you think so but I am a known quantity." Sindis assured him, "I have few surprises left to play."

"I rather doubt that." Macen warned.

"Guys," T'Kir impatiently interrupted, "This is all sooo interesting but can someone tell me where Annika Ryst is?"

Sindis was amused, "She is communicating with Robhurt B'nner. By now she has undoubtedly learned of his decision to name me his successor."

"You've confirmed this?" Macen asked.

"He made the announcement upon hearing of your arrival here." Sindis revealed, "Now, enjoy your meal. It could be your last."

* * *

"What do you mean you announced his succession?" Ryst shouted at the viewscreen.

B'nner's image scowled, "Don't be impertinent. Two hours ago I handed over the reins of the Orion Syndicate to Sindis. The move was universally applauded."

"You old fool!" Ryst snapped, "You've signed your own death warrant."

B'nner bristled, "Mind your tongue. My influence made you. It can also break you. My position is secure since I have no part in Syndicate politics any more. I shall enjoy my retirement in peace. I will, however, be keenly observant of an Orion Syndicate led for the first time by a non-Orion."

"Let history be made on some other day, Robhurt." Ryst insisted, "I've already lost one patron. I won't lose another."

"Have no fear, Annika." B'nner chuckled, "My people are vigilant and loyal."

"Sindis can reach anyone." Ryst rebutted, "That includes you."

"I shall be on guard." B'nner assured her, "Now what do you intend to do about Macen? Will you strike out at him?"

"If I must." Ryst sullenly replied.

"You are my right hand in this." B'nner declared, "You must fulfil this one last request."

Ryst sighed, "All right. I'll do it for you."

B'nner smiled, "That's what I wanted to hear. May the gods of fortune smile upon you."

"Thanks." Ryst half-heartedly replied and then she terminated the connection, "Thanks a lot."

Ryst exited the runabout and headed for the reading nook. Sindis' dinner party was well under way and her sudden appearance would only be seen as a social gaff. She wanted to review some points in the SID files and she knew the nook would be all but deserted in favour of the party.

* * *

"Tom," Danan snapped Riker out of his reverie, "we have a ship breaking orbit."

"And your point is?" Riker had to ask.

"It's a ship Brin flagged." Danan explained, "It's the _Helios_. Her captain and crew are wanted by Starfleet for questioning."

"Lees, that's true of every ship in orbit besides us." Riker retorted.

"Not true." Danan said, "Five of the seven ships remaining in orbit around us are wanted for either questioning or have active warrants out for their arrest. The remaining two have no record of operating within Federation space and therefore have no outstanding warrants."

Riker sighed, "Give me the low-down on the _Helios_."

"She's a _Barracuda_-class scout captained by one Richard Drake." Danan reported.

"I wonder if he's…?" Riker mused.

"He's her husband." Danan supplied.

"Who's husband?" Riker asked.

"Admiral Drake's husband." Danan spoke as if to a particularly slow student.

Riker blinked, "I was only joking."

"I wasn't," Danan assured him, "and neither was Admiral Nechayev when she issued this alert."

"The Ice Queen issueth?" Riker mocked, "We'd better sound General Quarters."

"Laugh it up fuzzball." Danan quipped, "You don't know Alynna the way Brin and I do. She personally directed our infiltration of the Maquis and was our case handler until the fall of the Maquis and the outbreak of the Dominion War. Her reputation is undeserved."

"I'm sure it is." Riker said.

Danan knew she was being patronised and it angered her, "Listen here spud! I don't think you're funny. I gave you my opinion and you belittled it. If you think you can be unprofessional with me because we're close, guess again!"

A rather sobered Riker replied, "Okay, I'm thoroughly chastised. I see your point and I apologise. Just let me ask, do you even know what a "spud" is?"

Danan coloured, "It's a word a previous host encountered and it's kind of stuck with me. I have no idea what it means."

"Neither do I." Riker chuckled.

"It's colloquial reference to a Terran potato." Ceryx supplied from the helm, "Its usage is harmless enough."

"And how would you know this?" Danan had to know.

"I once knew a potato farmer." Was all Ceryx would say.

Riker and Danan waited for a moment for further elucidation. When it became obvious that none was coming their eyes met. In stereo they said, "He once knew a potato farmer."

Riker turned to Ceryx, "Can you plot the _Helios'_ vector?"

"I already have." The Tyrokian informed him, "They are on a run towards the travel lane through the debris field. Their intended travel route beyond that point is incalculable at this time."

Riker gaped at Danan and she smiled, "Yep. I think he just sassed you."

"OPS," Riker regained his composure, "relay a signal off the closest comm satellite. I want to talk to Starfleet Intelligence."


	30. Chapter 30

The landing party appeared on the _Obsidian's _transporter pads and the four figures visibly relaxed. Radil ran a hand through her short locks as they stepped into the outer corridor.

"I was on guard the whole time but when Sindis made that 'last meal' crack I was ready to start shooting." She admitted.

"He was just toying with us." Macen assured her, "He won't try anything until he views it as an intellectual challenge."

"Then the question is: what constitutes an intellectual challenge?" Daggit asked.

"A challenge would be laying down an elaborate trap with one or more hidden avenues of escape." Macen explained.

"And if we escape?" Radil wondered.

"Then we face another trap with even more difficult to find escape routes." Macen answered.

"So does he have any ideas in store for us?" Daggit asked their resident esper.

T'Kir shrugged, "I dunno. His mind is like Hannah's. It's so rigidly disciplined it prevents me from actively touching it."

"I've always wondered about that." Radil admitted, "Why does that work that way?"

T'Kir waited for the door to the briefing room to slide open and then stepped inside when it did so, "Imagine it this way: a typical mind has hundreds and thousands of random thoughts and memories readily floating about, ready to be plucked and examined. I can do this passively, without exerting any pressure on the mind to divulge info."

T'Kir took her usual seat next to Macen's customary place, "Hannah and Sindis' minds are composed of solid structures and steel walls. All of their thoughts and memories are safely hidden away in mental vaults. To try and dig their secrets out of them would probably fry their brains."

"How would that work?" Radil pressed, "How _do_ you kill with your mind?"

T'Kir glanced over towards Macen. He shrugged and she slowly began to explain, "Y'know how a trained person can alter their metabolism, heart rate, and breathing all with their minds? I just use the mind to accelerate the heart rate and raise the blood pressure. By increasing the pressure inside the brain I create aneurysms. The resultant damage of their bursting destroys the mind and the individual dies."

Radil noted a touch of excitement creeping into T'Kir's voice, "So what do you get out of it?"

"You wanna find out?" T'Kir's bloodlust was naked for the world to see.

"T'Kir," Macen's voice broke her out of her trance, "we're all friends here. We don't need a demonstration of your powers."

"Oh foo." T'Kir pouted.

Macen reached out and squeezed her hand. She immediately quit sulking and smiled brightly. Meanwhile, Radil and Daggit exchanged worried glances.

It was Radil who gave voice to their concern, "I know your surgery was supposed to cure all of your problems but maybe you should consider going back on your meds."

T'Kir's blush gave her cheeks a creamy jade complexion, "Sorry `bout that. I kinda get warmed up to my topic."

"Worked up?" Radil grew indignant, "You seemed ready to kill me for the fun of it."

T'Kir was uncustomarily speechless so Macen stepped in, "You weren't in any real danger. If she'd wanted to kill you you'd be dead by now."

"That's not the _frinxing _point." Radil argued, "I know that look. She _wanted _to kill me and she was going to _enjoy_ it."

"I may as well fess up." T'Kir sighed, "Yes, I do enjoy killing people with my telepathy. It's quite a rush to feel someone being slowly smothered out of every thought and knowing you're the reason behind it. That being said, I also realise that it's usually wrong to do it so I try not to."

"'Try not to'?" Radil asked, "Honey, your moral compass is broken."

T'Kir snorted, "This is coming from a woman that used to kill for the highest bidder?"

Radil was outraged but Macen spoke before she could, "I think we should drop it."

"No." T'Kir retorted, "I want to know when she became a moral authority. Her principles have always been decided by the latinum involved. Who is she to judge my ethical crisis?"

Radil started to rise and her hand reached for her holster. T'Kir exploded out of her seat and drew her phaser in the blink of an eye.

Smirking, she said, "I'm smarter, faster, stronger, and far less confused about life. Who says I don't deserve to decide who lives and who dies?"

Radil raised her hands and slouched back into her seat. Macen spoke slowly in a soothing voice, "T'Kir, it's over. Holster the phaser and retake your seat."

She looked uncertainly towards him. Macen smiled, "It's all right, Honey. The briefing is going to take place in the next fifteen minutes. Let's exchange notes on our visit to the surface and get ready to brief those left behind."

T'Kir smiled and put the gun away. She plopped down into her seat, "What'cha wanna talk about?"

* * *

After the briefing T'Kir and Grace were hatching a new scheme to get Grace a date upon returning to Barrinor. Macen was in his Ready Room and the chime sounded. He ordered the computer to allow access and Danan and Riker entered in. They looked worried.

"I take it you've already heard about the incident with T'Kir?" Macen asked.

"In a roundabout way." Riker ruefully admitted, "Radil told Abby Collins. Abby told me."

"And Tom told me." Danan interjected.

"Well sit down before you get all a-twitter." Macen said and activated the comm, "T'Kir, can you please report to the Captain's Ready Room?"

"Is that necessary?" Riker wondered as he and Danan took the seats laid out before Macen's desk.

"Individuals have the right to face their accusers." Macen replied, "At least they do on this ship."

Both Riker and Danan were embarrassed. He had protested a basic civil right championed by the Federation. Excuses would only add to his shame.

"You're right of course." Riker admitted, "She should be here."

"Glad you think so." Macen smiled, "Now, can I get you something?"

* * *

T'Kir arrived with Grace firmly by her side. They occupied the couch. Danan swivelled her chair in order to face T'Kir. Riker's view remained halfway between the desk and the couch.

"So," Danan smirked as she shifted her attention to Grace, "I take it you've been in on this little secret?"

"The situation is under control." Grace asserted.

"That's a matter of opinion." Danan rebutted, "I understand Brin's proclivities and his own nefarious reasons behind shielding T'Kir but you surprise me."

"It shouldn't." Grace retorted, "You've had your suspicions about me and my inherited view of anyone non-Kelvan. My own disregard for humanoid life is just a step away from T'Kir's enjoyment of ending said life."

"I guess that covers your part in this." Danan said and she turned to Macen, "I knew you were a nihilist but hiding this goes a little too far."

"I'm not a nihilist and you know it, Lees." Macen dismissed her accusation, "I'm just a believer in a cause."

"Wait a minute." Riker insisted, "Give me enough information to catch up. Why are you arguing over whether or not Brin is a nihilist when it's T'Kir we're here to assess?"

"It's all part of the same package." Danan replied, "If you hadn't guessed it by now our dear Captain is an idealist. He was an idealist from a society of idealists. But he was a subversive. He is a Seeker of Truth and the Seekers are revolutionaries. They believe that the galaxy must undergo social rebirth in order to achieve balance."

"Unfortunately, their revolution comes at a price. The old must be torn down and stripped away through any means necessary. This includes violent means. We all know Brin has a heavy hand when it comes to dealing with foes but what remains a secret is that every death just draws us all together, one step closer to our destiny. For that he would kill billions."

"So hand him a weapon like a woman that can kill with her mind, silently, and unseen, and of course he's going to stow her safely away. This is what drove us apart. His ambitions became revealed during the Maquis rebellion and when the Dominion War ended it was painfully obvious these motives still drove him."

"Is this true?" Riker was almost afraid to ask Macen.

Macen nodded, "Her version is laced with a little hyperbole but it contains all the essential facts."

Riker turned to Danan, "Why didn't you report him?"

Danan gave him a pained expression, "Why do you think his personnel file is sealed? Starfleet knows, Tom. They're privy to all of his deep, dark ambitions. Admiral Nechayev finds him useful so there he sits: out of Starfleet but still a tool for Starfleet's use. We've just been caught up alongside him."

"Then it's a good thing you and I are getting off of the ship after this mission is over." Riker decided, "Now can we get back to determining what kind of threat T'Kir poses?"

T'Kir laughed, "I'm far less of a threat then I was a few weeks ago. My abilities have been drastically pared down and it takes a great deal of effort to inflict any damage upon a brain. A psyche, however, is another matter."

"Look," T'Kir sighed, "I got out of hand. We all do that from time to time. Nothing happened and nothing's gonna happen. None of you have ever been threatened by me before."

"But the first time changes everything." Danan remarked.

"Why don't we let Radil decide if she feels threatened?" T'Kir challenged.

* * *

"I don't understand you." Abby Collins confessed, "You readily admit that you love me but you don't want to get together."

Radil graced her with a pitying look, "It's simple. I don't want to be just another infatuated fling for you. You've pursued every superior officer you ever had. Let's put you in a position where I'm not over you and let's see where you stand."

"Well, I'd like you to be over me." Collins paused and saw Radil's irritation, "Sorry. Bad joke."

"Just ill timed." Radil relented, "It's very simple. Commander Riker has offered you the Security position aboard the _Indomitable_. Serve in that capacity, where we're equals, and see if you're still attracted to me. After that, we'll talk about it."

Collins wanted to protest but she knew better, "All right. Until later."

* * *

The _Helios_ docked at _DS3_. Having remotely secured the umbilicals and sealed the airlock connection, Drake ordered the hatch to be opened. Outside the ship the obligatory Customs inspectors were there to assess their cargo.

The inspectors examined the cargo manifest and then were escorted by Harmon Rappaport to the holds. Drake and the rest headed into the Galleria. They'd reached the food court when a detachment of Security officers surrounded them. Thomas Barclay ordered them to surrender. Drake signalled his crew to comply.

They were placed in restraints and marched back to the Security Office. There, Rappaport awaited them. His face betrayed his sense of guilt.

"Sorry Richard." He said miserably, "Those 'Customs' agents were really Security officers. They found the smuggling holds. They knew right where to look. Someone must have tipped them off."

"There are a few dozen possible informants." Drake opined, "Let's concentrate on protesting our innocence."

The various officers agreed and they went silent as the Barclay returned to oversee the removal of their restraints and their being placed in cells. An hour passed in silence and then Captain Reyes appeared. Drake was removed from his cell and taken to a private interviewing room where he was joined by Barclay and Reyes.

"Well, Captain Drake," Reyes was upbeat, "it seems you're in a world of trouble."

"I haven't done anything." Drake insisted, "My crew and I merely came here to unload some fruits and vegetables before setting sail for the Cardassian Union."

"That's odd." Barclay replied, "My officers found one crate of produce and fifteen hidden crates of Kolemi disruptor rifles. Do you know what the penalty for transporting Kolemi weapons into the Federation is?"

Drake's complexion turned cinereous, "We were on our way to the Cardassian Union."

"But the weapons are illegal there as well." Barclay continued, "In fact, they are prohibited by the Klingons, the Romulans, The Tzenkethi, and even the Tholians. The only power in the known Alpha and Beta Quadrants that will touch them is the Gorn. Problem is, you have to transport them without violating any other power's territory."

Barclay coldly regarded Drake, "You, my friend, are going to do time."

Reyes grew sombre, "Do you wish to speak with a lawyer?"

"I want to talk with Admiral Amanda Drake." Drake demanded, "I won't discuss anything with anyone else."

Reyes shook his head sadly, "Admiral Nechayev dispatched your wife to assist with the interrogation before your ship even docked. She'll be here in two days."

"Good." Drake said, "I'll talk to her. I'll tell her whatever she wants to know but the rest of you can go to hell."

"Good to know." Reyes commented and looked out past the forcefield guarding the door, "Please escort the prisoner back to his cell."

The outer guards complied and Reyes and Barclay conferred.

"What do you think?" Reyes asked.

"He has plans." Barclay opined, "I suggest we double security around Admiral Drake when she debriefs him."

"Agreed." Reyes replied before adding, "For all our sakes."


	31. Chapter 31

"Two days!" T'Kir grumbled as she paced back and forth in Macen's Ready Room, "Two days of 'business meetings' and posturing. When's somethin' gonna happen?"

"I'd say be glad it hasn't." Riker countered. He and Daggit were sitting in on this little palaver regarding their developing strategy for dealing with Sindis' machinations, "From what his profile says when he does strike it'll be ruthless and deadly."

"Better'n waiting around." T'Kir groaned as she flung herself onto the couch.

"From what I can read off of him," Macen spoke up, "Sindis is seriously considering our offer. He leaves in two days to assume his mantle as the new Don of the Orion Syndicate. His position is secure so his impetus to kill us has waned. Now it's just a matter of weighing the effect it would have on his men."

"You got all of that in two days?" a disbelieving Riker asked.

"You've got to know what to ask and when to ask it." Macen grinned.

"It also helps to be slightly empathic." Daggit said softly.

"Now Rab," Macen scolded, "you know my empathic senses are practically useless. In fact, I can barely read you at this distance apart."

"So it was your skills as a Listener that led you to these conclusions?" Riker wondered.

"Pretty much." Macen confirmed it.

"Heaven help us all." Riker murmured.

T'Kir pounced upon that remark, "What's that supposed t'mean?"

"Come on," Riker insinuated, "Brin is probably the worst listener in the history of the El-Aurians and you know it."

"Maybe." T'Kir almost conceded, "But he reads the Currents better'n most."

"Oh really?" Riker mocked, "What do they say about me?"

"T'Kir." Macen warned her off.

"Your new command is gonna begin beautifully but heartbreak is gonna strike after a little while."

"Uh huh." Riker scoffed, "And when does this occur?"

T'Kir opened her mouth but Macen angrily cut her off, "T'Kir! That's enough!"

Her eyes became vacant for a moment and then she winced and became cognizant, "Yes, Boss. I'll be quiet now."

"What's this all mean?" Riker was agitated, "What aren't you telling me?"

"Relax Tom." Macen sought to soothe him, "It's all just a lot of superstitious mysticism you don't believe in."

Riker seemed unconvinced but he let the matter go, "So, what's on the agenda? Another meeting with Sindis?"

Macen sighed, "Yes. He's making his decision today."

"That means he'll set his trap today." Daggit surmised.

"If he's going to set one." Macen conceded, "Somehow I think we've been relegated to the 'secondary problem' category."

"Do you think we should take that chance?" Daggit wondered.

"Of course not." Macen chuckled, "When we reach the surface we'll be ready for a fight."

"When's the meet?" Riker asked.

Macen shrugged, "I don't know. Sindis is supposed to call and inform me of when he's available."

_That_ elicited several eye rolls.

* * *

"We don't know why he's insisting on only speaking with you, Admiral, but we suspect malicious intent." Barclay informed Admiral Drake.

"Nothing would surprise me any more." Amanda Drake wearily admitted.

"You don't have to face him," Reyes put in, "at least not by yourself."

"The three Security officers you assigned to me will be right on the other side of the forcefield." Amanda Drake put a hand on his shoulder, "Come on Alfonso, you know I can handle myself."

"Against an average perp." Reyes countered, "For God's sake, this is your husband. You're here to assist us in this investigation. That means helping us interpret what he says as well as his nonverbal cues. Not even Nechayev could've anticipated you actively interrogating your own husband. This violates every aspect of the prohibition of working cases you have involvement with and you know it."

Drake coldly eyed him, "Are you done?"

Reyes' shoulders slumped, "For now."

"Good." Drake shouldered past him, "I have work to do."

The interrogation room had been altered for this particular debriefing. The customary full size table had been removed and a simple folding card table had been placed in front of the admiral's intended place. Stationary metal chairs had also replaced the rolling office chairs normally employed. The change was intended to evoke a spirit of intimacy...an intimacy Amanda no longer felt towards her estranged husband but it might prove to be a useful tool. The guards were to be vigilant in ensuring that Richard stayed on his side of the room.

Richard could freely move around the room but he was to stay on the opposite side of the card table. One step beyond the invisible boundary and the guards would rush in and stun him. The following interrogation would take place with Richard in wrist and ankle restraints.

Richard straightened up in his chair when he saw Amanda on the other side of the forcefield. She conferred with the senior guard, offering her last minute instructions. After that, Ensign Bishop dropped the forcefield and let Amanda into the room. She calmly and coolly crossed the room and then sat down at her place and spread her padds out before her. Richard looked so much like an eager puppy.

"Amanda! Thank God you're here!" Richard gushed, "I didn't know who else to call."

Amanda's eyes narrowed, "You should have called an attorney. At least he or she would be on your side. I represent Starfleet. My sole purpose to being here is to investigate your actions and motives for and towards breaking Federation laws."

The male Drake's enthusiasm remained undiminished, "I know I'll get fair treatment from you…despite everything that's recently happened between us."

_That_ amused Amanda, "Don't try and cloud the issue at hand. Your course and flight logs indicate that you came from Mityr. Is that where you picked up the Kolemi disruptor rifles?"

"Yes." Richard admitted, "We received the rifles from agents of Bertram Sindis. We were to take them to Valo II in the Bajoran sector and meet with Cardassian agents. It was an exchange run. One thumbprint on a bank transfer form and we dropped off the rifles, never to see them again."

"Never to see the agents again or the rifles?" Amanda inquired.

"Either." Richard rose and began to pace, "Both. You never know in this business."

"And what business would that be?" Amanda sought clarification.

"Smuggling." Richard ran a hand through his thinning hair, "When we first hired on with Sindis' organisation we were commercial scouts. Smuggling happened to pay better so we jumped at the chance when it arose."

"And why do citizens of the Federation need cash?" Amanda pointedly asked.

Richard leaned against the wall and cast a dubious eye over her, "Surely you're not so blind as to miss the fact that latinum provides a great number of services and comforts even _within_ the Federation?"

Amanda relented, "All right. I'll concede that you have a point. What kind of goods did you smuggle and who were your clients?"

Richard loosed a hollow laugh, "Even if I could remember I couldn't tell you that. It would cost me my life and the lives of my crew. I have to watch out for them."

"We can protect you." Amanda promised.

Richard pushed himself away from the wall and headed for the table, "No, you can't and you know it."

Richard reached the edge of the table and said, "Look, I could use a cup of coffee and you're looking like you need to stretch your legs. Why don't we take a break and fulfil our mutual needs?"

Amanda resisted. She hated the fact that he could read her so well. It had been his suggestion that she place the treadmill in her office. She used it constantly well trying to burn off nervous energy.

She stood and turned to face the forcefield, "Could we get two cappuccinos in here?"

Bishop turned to the third guard and repeated the request. The second guard turned as well. It was then that Richard struck. He lunged forward and scooped Amanda up in his arms. He then threw her in the air and her lower back crashed into the back of her chair. Her body bent like a bow and then she slid off to the side, crashing onto the floor.

She gasped as she struggled to rise. Pain lanced through her entire body. All except her legs that was. With a frightening clarity she realised that she couldn't feel anything below her hips.

Richard rounded the chair and hesitated for a split-second. A particle beam struck him and then another. Drake collapsed upon the ground, paralysed but still conscious. Bishop knelt by the struggling admiral. She was trying to push herself up off the floor. Bishop stopped her.

"Ma'am," Bishop was preternaturally calm, "You're injured. Tell me what's wrong."

Amanda spoke through gritted teeth, "M-my legs. I can't f-feel them."

"Just hang on, ma'am." Bishop tried to encourage her, "You'll have help in a moment."

Bishop tapped her comm badge, "Bishop to Infirmary. Lock on to Admiral Drake's comm badge and initiate emergency transport. Be advised, she has suffered a severe trauma to her lower back and she cannot feel or move her legs."

"So advised." Came a nurse's voice, "Stand clear of the patient."

With that, Amanda was transported to the Infirmary.

* * *

Seven hours later Reyes sat by Drake's bed while she napped. She awoke with a deep sigh and glanced about the room. Reyes sat up straight and managed a wan smile.

"Glad to see you again, Amanda." Reyes confided.

"You never lied this badly when we were classmates at the Academy, Alfonso." Drake wore a sceptical expression.

"Have the doctors told you…?" Reyes faltered.

"That I'm permanently paralysed from the waist down?" Drake tried to keep her sadness from creeping into her voice. She almost succeeded. "Yes. We've had a long discussion about it."

"I'm so sorry." Reyes' grief was genuine.

Tears glistened in Drake's eyes, "It's not your fault. If I'd listened to you…" Drake's voice choked off.

Reyes forced a smile, "So, what did they teach us about dealing with grief and loss?"

Drake graced him with an indulgent smile, "I hear that you've a new woman in your life. A certain Ro Laren to be precise. Do tell and tell me everything."

* * *

"I want this sonuvabitch and I want him served up on a platter." Nechayev snarled.

"Wait a second Alynna," Macen counselled, "how did Sindis arrange this attack?"

"Richard Drake's been conditioned using an Angosian technique, the mental footprints are unmistakeable, and his sole target was Amanda. The last person he saw was Sindis and Sindis specifically sent him to _DS3_." Nechayev grated, "I want him arrested and I want it done now!"

"In case you've forgotten," Macen replied, "we're not in the Federation and I have no legal jurisdiction here."

"Then assume some damned illegal jurisdiction." Nechayev snapped.

"Just clarifying the situation." Macen nodded, "We'll take care of it."

Macen signed off and looked at T'Kir, "Send Tom in here and round up Rab, Radil, and Joachim and have them join you in the briefing room. I'll be there in a minute."

"So we're going to war?" T'Kir asked as she rose.

"Looks that way." Macen confirmed.

"Poor Amanda." T'Kir opined, "She's a real pain in the butt but I like her."

"Don't worry," Macen assured her, "Sindis will get what's coming to him one way or another."


	32. Chapter 32

"People, we need a plan." Macen said as he faced those gathered at the briefing room table. Riker had insisted that he and Grace be allowed to join them. Their participation was in order to coordinate the starship's activities with those of the team on the ground.

"The site itself is a challenge." Dracas opined, "It's shielded against sensors and transporters. We can't know what or who is inside until we arrive. Our access points are also limited to those entrances allowed by the facility. Fortunately, we do have an idea of the interior layout thanks to T'Kir."

T'Kir half rose and took a mock bow. Unfazed, Dracas pulled up the schematics he wanted and continued, "As I understand it, the opposition was aware of her penetration but could not discover how she accessed the systems or what she perused while in contact with them."

He highlighted the upper section of the domed Citadel, "Visual sweeps indicated that the uppermost part of the fortress based Type V phaser banks. This has been proven to be correct. The technology behind the Type V dates back to the mid-23rd century. It had become widely available to colonial outposts during the mid-24th century, the time when Mityr was colonised by corporate interests from the Federation. The weapon is quite effective against civilian transports converted into raiders but ineffective against modern starships." He paused and then added, "Although its effects can prove to be rather annoying."

"I bet." Riker interjected, "It sounds like its intent is to keep a ship's shields up in order to prevent them from beaming anyone to the surface or launching shuttlecraft."

Dracas nodded agreement, "That was my assessment as well. Now, if you'll notice here, the middle layers of the citadel are the areas where we've had the greatest penetration so far. These include the conference rooms and the East Mess. Included in these areas are the personnel barracks, the guest suites, something referred to as the Reading Nook, and an infirmary."

The highlighted section of the diagram shifted to the base, "Here is the heart and soul of the operation. Tucked away at the heart of this stronghold is a command centre that doubles as a bunker. Attached to this are another briefing room and the Supreme Commander's private office. The latter presumably being Sindis' exclusive domain."

An area beneath the complex was now highlighted, "The 'basement' houses the facility's fusion reactor. It is roughly comparable to the Cardassian _Neglin_ reactors that power the _Nor_-class space stations. In summary, that's our target. Now let's see how to take it apart."

"Thank you, Joachim." Macen said and received an acknowledging nod in return, "He got it right folks. How do we crack this egg?"

"We could hammer it with phasers and photon torpedoes from orbit." Grace suggested.

"It isn't feasible." Macen opined, "The Citadel is surrounded by the dependents of the workers inside. We'd be killing innocent men, women, and children."

Grace gave him a _So what?_ look and Dracas intervened, "It would take quite a bit of work. The barrage would be meeting Cardassian shields designed for the aforementioned space stations. Only having to protect half of a sphere augments their strength."

"Also," Riker interjected, "I rather doubt the local traffic would leave us unmolested while we try to beat down their boss' door."

Grace raised her hands in surrender, "Okay, I give up. Bad idea."

"It seems to me that the first thing we need to do at this point is contact Starfleet." Daggit spoke up, "You did say they were in on this mission, right?"

A smile played at Macen's lips, "I activated our Starfleet assets before joining you here."

Riker opted to jump in at that moment, "It's true. I overheard it all."

Daggit was visibly relieved, "What's their ETA?"

"An hour and a half." Macen answered.

Radil joined the fray, "And are we waiting for the cavalry or are we doing our usual shtick?"

"The usual." Macen replied. This elicited several groans and he started to explain, "Once those starships arrive, we lose the element of surprise. If we strike first they'll still sound an alarm but we'll already be in the facility and on the move by the time they do."

"So what would our objectives be?" Radil enquired.

"I have to ask the same on behalf of the ship." Riker added.

"The _Obsidian_ will be tasked with occupying as many of the orbital units as it can. The three Starfleet starships need a distraction in order to arrive undetected." Macen answered.

"The perimeter sensor buoys will still detect them." Grace pointed out.

"But the ground controllers will be distracted by us and the orbital traffic will be concentrating on you." Macen rebutted, "That will allow our Starfleet allies to slip in quietly."

"Our 'allies'?" Riker glibly remarked.

Macen grinned, "We have to call them something."

"What are our basic objectives?" Dracas refocused the group.

Macen deferred to T'Kir who answered, "We have three basic goals. The first being the capture of Sindis himself. The next one is returning Annika Ryst to custody. The last goal is to raid the pirate's databases and finding out who's on the payroll and where they're at."

"Are these your goals or ours?" Dracas wondered considering the source.

"They're 'our' goals." Macen clarified, "T'Kir and I brainstormed these ideas over the last two days."

"Very well." Dracas relented, "I just had to ask."

"Sure, sure," T'Kir teased, "question the nutcase why don'cha?"

Dracas looked embarrassed and Macen had to smile, "It's all right Joachim. She's just teasing you."

Dracas looked relieved and Macen addressed the group, "Those are our basic objectives. If anyone has any more to bring to the table, speak up. The question before us is how to accomplish these goals, and remember, we only have an hour before we need to launch this little endeavour."

* * *

"So what are you going to do about Macen?" Ryst asked in the privacy of Sindis' office.

"I'm planning on denying his request and then sending him on his way." Sindis answered.

"What about your promise to Robhurt?" Ryst asked.

"I made no promise." Sindis replied matter of factly, "I told him I would pursue the matter of Macen's destruction and I shall…at a later date."

Ryst's face contorted with rage, "You lying piece of _shuk_! How dare you presume to assume the mantle of the Syndicate?"

Sindis remained aloof, "I would watch my words at this point. B'nner is gone. I am the future of the Syndicate and your place in it is no longer assured."

Ryst's anger simmered and she latched on to a new topic, "What do you mean Robhurt is 'gone'?"

Sindis grew alarmed, "Hasn't anyone told you?"

"Told me what?" Ryst grated despite already knowing the answer.

"B'nner was found dead by one of his attendants. He apparently died of natural causes." Sindis smoothly reported.

Once again Ryst silently vowed revenge, "How long ago did this happen?"

"His condition was discovered nearly two hours ago." Sindis revealed.

"And I'm just now being informed?" Ryst archly inquired.

"The existing Syndicate bosses opted to leave that matter to me." Sindis said in oily tones.

"So, are you planning on having them eliminated as well?" Ryst coolly asked.

"Annika, what are you implying?" Sindis sounded and looked hurt, "You wound me."

"Spare me." Ryst sneered, "We both know you're capable and willing to kill anyone, anywhere, at any time."

Sindis brightened, "This reminds me, I have received happier news today. Admiral Drake has been struck down by my agent."

"So, the husband killed the wife." Ryst commented, "I suppose congratulations are in order."

"He didn't kill her." Sindis gloated, "He crippled her. The dear Admiral has lost the use of her legs."

"Won't this inspire her to come after you all the more?" Ryst enquired.

Sindis' smile was predatory, "Ah, yes. But now she intimately knows what you phrased so well. I can strike at her at any time at any place of my choosing. Meanwhile, I remain just out of reach."

"But for how long?" Ryst probed.

"That's the rub." Sindis chuckled, "My life will be in constant peril. I relish the thought."

For the first time Ryst considered the possibility that Sindis was insane. As if sensing her ruminations, Sindis tried to reassure her, "Don't worry. I'm not insane. I won't take the Syndicate down a mad spiral of destruction. The organisation and those in it are necessary for my goals. The Syndicate's prosperity ultimately ties in with my establishing a new commonwealth of independent states."

"Hasn't that been tried once already?" Ryst jested.

Sindis' ire was piqued, "Not like this. This Commonwealth will galvanise those powers neglected or overlooked by the Federation, her allies, and the Enforcers. It will become the envy of all those worlds and they will clamour for membership."

"So let me get this straight. You're going to unite the 'lawless frontier' and unleash them upon 'civilisation' in an effort to terrorise them into joining with your barely tamed rogue states. Afterwards, you're going to march off into the unknown seeking conquest and glory." Ryst cheekily surmised, "Does that about sum it up?"

Sindis was rapturously overjoyed, "You know me too well."

_I certainly do, you megalomaniacal git._ She thought inwardly to herself. Outwardly she said, "Nice plan. Good luck with it."

"You won't be joining me?" Sindis seemed saddened.

"I have one last job to do for Robhurt." Ryst confided, "After that I retire."

"Retire?" Sindis echoed, "You're a woman of passion and action. Retirement is not for you."

"I won't completely retire." Ryst amended, "I have several aliases and cover identities. Some of them have very interesting careers. I'd like to spend the next few decades mastering a few of them."

"I am certain you will master them all." Sindis confidently predicted, "I can count on your discretion regarding my endeavours?"

Ryst shrugged, "I don't know enough to reveal anything."

Sindis appraised her for a moment, "Yes, you have been quite discrete during your time here. It truly is a pity I cannot have you for an ally."

"Just be glad you don't have me as a foe." Ryst countered.

"But that doesn't rule out your being opposed to me in the future." Sindis mused, "It's just as well. If we were united the question of who was better would always creep up and eventually we would have to duel to the death to settle the matter."

"That would be a shame." Ryst drolly replied.

Sindis eyed her for a moment and then relaxed, "When will you depart?"

"I'll leave as soon as the _Obsidian_ clears orbit." Ryst promised, "Maybe sooner."

Sindis held out his hand, "Good luck to you then. Would you like to remain here and oversee the final hours of Macen's visit?"

Ryst nodded after accepting Sindis' hand, "I think I would."

Sindis smiled, "Excellent."

* * *

"I've read your report," Reyes informed Drake, "I don't think you should be so harsh with yourself."

Drake loosed a bitter laugh, "Puh-lease Alfonso, I ignored every safety precaution and reg in the book because I thought my wifely insights into Richard would put me one step ahead of the game." Sadly, she added, "I didn't even see this one coming."

"No one did." Reyes replied, "Not even Richard. He sobbed like a baby when we told him what happened. The mental conditioning we discovered with Senecka's help seems to have taken over and driven his actions. He wasn't even consciously aware of them."

Drake pondered that for a moment, "That's some small comfort."

Reyes grew uncomfortable, "What happens now?"

"Tomorrow I get an antigrav chair." Drake revealed, "After that it's a few weeks of practice with the chair, lifestyle training to learn how to cope with the changes, and counselling to help with the trauma. After that I return to duty."

"What about housing?" Reyes asked, "Are you going to keep your flat?"

"House hunting are we?" Drake drolly replied, "No, I'm not keeping the flat. Alynna is finding me a handicap friendly environ. Starfleet has some specialised quarters available and it looks as though I could move into one of those."

Reyes grimaced, "It figures that Starfleet would be intimate with rarefied injuries."

"Be kind." Drake scolded, "It's not Starfleet Medical's fault that our duties are so hazardous or that nerve tissue won't regenerate."

"And there's no hope?" Reyes softly asked.

Drake shrugged, "There's always the next great breakthrough. But as things stand I'm basically screwed. It's funny, they repaired the fractured vertebrae that severed my spinal chord but they couldn't touch the chord itself. It's one of those things they don't teach at the Academy."

"Well," Reyes sighed, "it's just about certain that Sindis arranged this. So what happens on that front?"

"We'll see." Drake coolly remarked, "Anything is possible."

"Just as long as you're not out for revenge." Reyes commented.

"Revenge is a waste of time and resources." Drake opined, "I just want to see him arrested, tried, and his head stuck on a pike."

Reyes started to laugh and then he realised that she was serious. Drake was a changed woman he realised in that moment of clarity. He just wondered how the galaxy would fare under her purview.


	33. Chapter 33

Macen, T'Kir, Dracas, Radil, and Daggit materialised on the tarmac of the Citadel's executive landing pad. The guards manning the checkpoint at the entrance into the fortress immediately sounded the alarm upon seeing the transporter effects. Daggit and Dracas each shot the guards before they could fire upon the landing party.

"There goes the element of surprise." Daggit said grimly.

"We knew there was a chance this would happen." Macen reminded the group, "Let's be about our business."

They cautiously approached the entrance. Seeing that reinforcements weren't on their way yet, Macen turned to T'Kir, "Can you jam this door so that it stays open?"

She looked at the activating mechanism, threw a few switches, and then shot it. She gave him a perky smile, "Door's jammed."

Macen grinned, "I love you."

T'Kir's smile brightened all the more, "Good to know."

"Hey! You two!" Radil called back from where the rest of the landing party had scouted ahead, "We've found something you may want to see."

Macen and T'Kir strolled down the corridor. Signs written in Federation Basic designated what lay beyond each door they encountered. Most of the doors denoted conference rooms and other sundry type facilities. They passed an open door with glass walls. This was the West Mess. It was far less opulent than the East Mess and served the "enlisted" ranks.

The cooks inside were frantically using the comm, presumably to summon reinforcements, but no one appeared to be coming. That was the strangest part of all of this. Central Security had to have a good bead on them by now so where were the squads of armed guards?

They reached the door Radil wanted them to see. Again, the upper half of the outer wall was made of glass. The sign by the door read "Reading Nook". Macen had to smile.

"Good job." He motioned for Dracas to close in, "Do you still have your sensor shroud?"

"Of course." Dracas sniffed. His pride had been wounded by the merest suggestion that he was remiss in his duties. Macen ignored it.

The sensor shroud was one of Dracas' recent inventions. It hadn't been field tested yet. Theoretically it should mask the biosignature of whoever wore one. Since the task designated for the reading room would require time, this was a perfect time to test the devices.

"Good. You and T'Kir activate yours as planned." Macen turned to T'Kir, "While Joachim's shutting down the reactor, copy every file they have."

"I know the plan, dear." T'Kir wore a wry smile, "I came up with it."

Macen swept her up into his arms and kissed her. It was a brief kiss but it transmitted a universe full of hopes. She smiled contentedly, "You should do that more often."

"You take care of yourself." Macen turned to Radil, "Remember, their safety is your primary concern."

Radil threw a jaunty salute, "You've got it Boss."

Macen and Daggit started to leave and T'Kir called out, "Watch your back!"

He waved and he and Daggit rounded a corner and disappeared. Radil took up station at the corner, "Well? Get busy."

T'Kir looked over to Dracas and shrugged. Dracas gave her an Imperial salute and ventured into the Reading Nook. T'Kir followed and soon they were immersed in code.

* * *

"Sir," one of the sensor techs alerted his superior, "I've lost two of them."

"Where did they go?" the senior officer asked.

"I don't know." The tech replied, "They just vanished."

The supervisor summoned Enrick Gaston, "We have a problem."

Gaston coolly scrutinised the supervisor's nervous appearance and manner, "Do you have a solution?"

"Er…no." the supervisor admitted.

"Then it does indeed appear that _you _have a problem." Gaston warned, "Describe the scenario to me."

After hearing the details of the situation from the supervisor and the tech, Gaston instructed them, "Wait here. Do nothing until I return."

Gaston then went to Sindis' command station in the centre of the room. Gaston leaned in close and whispered into Sindis' ear. Sindis took the news with calm aplomb. After considering the matter for a couple of seconds, he spoke.

"Is the backdoor option ready to move?" he asked.

Gaston nodded and Sindis instructed him to employ it. Sitting back down at the console next to Ryst he shook his head, "Pity. I wanted to save my reserves until the end."

"With Macen," Ryst sagely advised, "expect the unexpected."

"Apparently so." A bemused Sindis agreed, "That's good to know."

* * *

Aboard the _Obsidian_, Riker was issuing orders, "Shields up! Red Alert! Hannah, break orbit. We need room to manoeuvre."

Riker began to address the bridge officers, "Target anything that targets us and fire at will. Hold torpedoes for my command." The Tactical Officer acknowledged and began carrying out her orders. Riker continued, "OPS, keep the data lines clear and flowing to all stations. Give priority to the Tactical and CONN boards." Riker addressed Danan, "Sciences, keep a lookout for our reinforcements. Also, call out any enemy weaknesses or patterns that Tactical is missing."

"Yes, Dear." Danan replied with a carefree grin. The mood on the bridge relaxed and everyone refocused on their duties.

* * *

Outside on the landing pad two groups of twelve materialised. They were pirates sent from orbital raiders and they wanted blood. The utilisation of the cargo transporters had allowed them to beam down in greater numbers. It was standard practice for them as they often employed the technique while boarding their victim's craft.

The pirates were creatures of space. They hunted in space, took their prizes in space, lived, ate, and slept in space. Now they were on the surface of Mityr and they had a hunt to perform.

Like most pirates, these creatures were essentially cowards. They were brutish bullies who drew strength and resolve from hunting in packs. Unsophisticated thugs, they sought to simply overwhelm and destroy rather than encircle and snare. They were a blunt instrument and this was the reason why Sindis had delayed in deploying them. They offended his sensibilities.

Meanwhile, being blithely unaware of their master's distaste for them, the pirates surged forward into the fortress with a mighty yell. Their boisterous battle cry was full of bravado but it did little to ensure discretion. Radil heard them long before they'd even entered the Citadel.

She raced around the curved corridor to come upon the headlong corsairs at the entrance to the Reading Nook. No time for forethought, she fired several bursts into the midst of the pirates. Afterwards she turned and ran.

Seeing five of their number dead, the pirate horde hesitated. Their meagre reserves of courage faltered and they wondered what to do. Finally one yelled out, "Get her!"

Bolstered by the fact that Radil was running _from _them they took up the chase. They hurtled down the corridor in pursuit with a mighty, "Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr!"

Back in the Reading Nook T'Kir and Dracas moved out from their hiding places. Dracas sheathed his sword, "I don't know whether to be disappointed or relieved."

T'Kir's face twisted up with a glum expression, "I know the feeling. I'm kinda torn between options. It's decided though so let's get back to work."

"It was pointless to hide." Dracas opined, "They could have spotted our active screens and deduced that someone was in here."

"You're assuming that they're observant." T'Kir grinned, "Trust me, they're pretty primitive."

Even after all this time, Dracas still overlooked T'Kir's telepathic abilities. This was quite a change from when he'd first joined the team. Her abilities had frightened him and he constantly worried about what she'd pluck from his mind. Now that he knew her and considered mostly benign, he never gave it another thought.

T'Kir smirked and Dracas wondered if she'd monitored his thoughts. It was of little consequence, she was the soul of discretion and Dracas had no fears.

"Back at it then?" Dracas asked.

"You read my mind." T'Kir winked and shifted her focus to her console.

Dracas shook his head as he resumed his project.

* * *

Macen and Daggit reached the vault door entrance to the bunker. It was open. Everything had been open up until this point. It smacked of a trap.

The facility had four stairwells and Macen and Daggit had warily descended one expecting to get caught in a lethal crossfire at any moment. That had not occurred. Instead they had reached their destination unmolested.

The two men stood to either side of the entrance. Daggit's rifle was poised. Macen held his phaser in a two-handed grip. At a signal from Macen Daggit rushed in to the command centre. Macen followed, ready to deal with anyone who shot at Daggit.

Daggit stopped just short of Sindis' control console. His rifle butt was tight against his shoulder and his body was slightly hunched. He had a commanding view of the bunker's interior and could sweep right or left and rake the facility with fire.

Macen settled into a modified Weaver stance to the Daggit's left. His coverage of the right side was weak and therefore that lane of fire had to be exclusively covered by Daggit. In exchange, Daggit ceded the left corner to Macen's attentive care.

"All right folks," Macen proclaimed to the techs and surveillance staff, "if you'll just step away from your consoles and proceed out of the command centre you'll be fine."

The staff, warned of this eventuality by Sindis, complied. One straggler made a move for an alarm toggle. Macen shot the console, spraying the staffer with sparks as the station's screen blew apart. He hurried out of the centre.

Sindis was greatly amused, "So now what?"

"We hold you here until reinforcements arrive." Macen replied.

"I think not." Sindis broke and ran. He ducked into his office and waited there.

Macen instructed Daggit, "Hold her here. I'll ferret Sindis out."

Ryst smiled at Daggit, "This isn't how you want it, is it? I'll tell you what, I'll lay down my arms and you lay down yours and we'll see who's left standing. Winner walks free."

Daggit pondered it, "Tempting."

Ryst slowly pulled her phaser free of its holster and tossed it aside, "There. Your turn."

Daggit laid his rifle down, then his pistol, his grenade launcher, and his knife; "Ready."

Ryst's smirk annoyed Daggit, "Remember Rab, you've never been able to beat me."

"That was then." Daggit gruffly replied, "This is now."

Ryst shrugged, "Have it your way."

* * *

Macen slowly crept into the office. A hammer blow knocked the phaser from his hands. It flew across the room, hit the wall, and fell behind the desk.

Sindis smirked. "I'm disappointed, Captain. Your friend Vaughn fell for the same trick. Let's see if you're any sturdier."


	34. Chapter 34

Drake swore as she ran her antigrav chair into a table. She couldn't believe she was perspiring…after all, the damn chair was doing all the work. The idea was to tailor the chair's movements to her kinaesthetic. So far, in an hour and a half, all they'd managed to do is try to destroy a lot of furniture.

"Relax Admiral." Hoshi Sanchez, the medtech in charge of prosthetics and ambulatory devices advised, "Let me make another series of adjustments. I think I've nailed your reflex pattern this time."

"We'll see." Drake grumped. Sanchez was far too perky to be for real.

After tinkering with the chair for twenty minutes, Sanchez closed all the access hatches. Wearing her never fading smile, she instructed Drake to navigate the room. Drake straightened out her chair without any problem. She set her path for the maze of furniture that was the bane of her existence.

She easily dodged the chair and then the table. Next came the Ottoman followed by a couch. Reaching the end without incident, she accelerated and then collided with a love seat. Sanchez clapped her hands, "Very good, Admiral. If you hadn't thrown caution to the wind and accelerated at the end, you would have had a perfect run at it."

Drake blinked. That was the closest thing to an admonishment that Sanchez had uttered since they began. Maybe there was hope for her after all.

"All right, Admiral," Sanchez's smile had an evil edge to it, "Once more unto the breach and you'll have earned a reprieve for the day."

Drake silently vowed not to over-accelerate.

* * *

The _Obsidian's _deckplates shuddered as another explosion rocked the ship. Riker called out for a damage report. The OPS Officer provided it.

"We've sustained damage to the lateral nacelle brace. There's a hull breach on Deck 7, Section 12. Thirteen casualties reported so far. Engineering is on the line for you."

"Patch them in." Riker ordered.

Gilan, the acting Chief Engineer, spoke, "We need to jettison the warp core. She's going to breach in two minutes."

"Jettison away." Riker ordered.

Riker turned to the Tactical Officer, "What's our shield estimate after the breach?"

"Probably 30-40%." She answered.

"Hannah put some distance between us and that core." Riker urged.

"I'll try." Grace replied through gritted teeth.

"Core detonation in five…four…three…two… One!" the OPS Officer ticked off.

The ship convulsed. Circuits overloaded all over the ship. Afterwards Riker asked for a situation report. The damage toll was as expected but OPS had some good news.

"One of the enemy raiders was destroyed and two more are crippled. With the five we've already taken out that means we've cut the opposition in half." The man called out, "Unfortunately, with our warp core gone that means we're stuck here."

"That was always the case." Riker informed him, "We're here until the battle ends…one way or another."

* * *

The _Monitor_, the _Merrimack_, and the _Hood_ sailed through the traffic channel in the debris field surrounding Mityr. The _Monitor _and the _Merrimack _were _Defiant_-class escorts. The _Hood_ was a _Galaxy_-class carrier. The carrier designation essentially meant that she carried a fighter wing rather than a full complement of shuttlecraft.

Aboard the _Hood_, Captain Merry Limerick was impatiently charting out the progress of his squadron. Limerick was an Elvin. Nearly undistinguishable from humans other than his pointed ears lacking earlobes and being attached directly to the skull.

The Elvins had visited primitive Earth and spawned many of the legends of faeries and elves. Sitting in his command seat with his silver hair tied back in a ponytail, one could very well imagine a fairy tale. This particular Elvin was known for his tactical expertise.

The _Hood _based the Rascal Squadron. It was reputed to be one of the best space superiority and ground support units in Starfleet. Also aboard were the Covert squads. Covert One and Covert Two were Special Operations Command teams and they were tasked with supporting Macen's landing party.

Commander Alec Prine was Captain of the _Merrimack_. Commander Hev Callas was CO of the _Monitor_. Both were veterans of SpecOps campaigns. Rather than bear the standard of Fleet Operations both vessels and crews bore the Intelligence designator.

A special guest aboard the _Hood _was one Commander Elias Vaughn. He was tasked as Mission Commander for the Covert teams. He still required a cane in order to walk normally but he was feeling fit and trim. Fiercely determined to see Sindis brought to justice, Vaughn had spent every moment since coming aboard getting to know his team members and familiarising himself with the Mission Specialist board on the _Hood's _bridge.

Limerick called Vaughn over, "It's almost time. Are you certain you're up for this Elias?"

"I've never been more ready for anything in my life, Merry." Vaughn assured him.

"Just watching out for you." Limerick grinned, "Halfa knows you've watched my back often enough."

"It's all been worth it to get to this moment." Vaughn smiled.

"Thanks." Limerick felt mildly embarrassed, "Man your station, Commander."

"Aye, aye, Captain." Vaughn went to his console and sat down.

"Captain," Sima Havelick, the ship's Tellarite XO, reported, "The _Monitor _and the _Merrimack _just signalled. They've cleared the field and the report that the _Obsidian_ is being overwhelmed."

"Order them to flank speed." Limerick instructed her, "I want them to alleviate the _Obsidian's_ situation ASAP."

Limerick turned to the laidback young woman standing to his other side, "Well, Commander, are you ready?"

Lt. Commander Verity Jones, Rascal Lead, grinned, "Give me launch authority and I'll show you ready."

"Get to the bay, Commander." Limerick instructed, "You launch in ten minutes."

Jones left with a rousing, "Woo hoo!"

Limerick shook his head, "She never ceases to amaze me."

"We're clear of the field." Havelick announced.

"Let's go to work." Limerick called out.

* * *

The _Monitor _and the _Merrimack_ entered the fray with pulse phasers blazing. They made short work of the remaining raiders. Two managed to break away and they started to flee. Limerick called off any pursuit. The two escorts were put on near space patrol.

The _Hood_ launched fighters before settling into orbit. The Citadel's Type V phaser cannons opened fire and began barraging the starship. Rascal Lead and Rascal Squadron were tasked with neutralising the threat.

"Rascal Lead to Rascal Six. Tighten up the formation." Jones ordered. The Rascals were flying the Double Delta. Six fighters to each formation.

The squadron flew the new _Lightning_-class fighter. It was named after the famed P-38 Lightning of Earth's early days of aviation. The space fighter superficially resembled the hallowed legend and hence the name.

"Rascal Lead to Rascals," Jones began issuing instructions, "Delta Two, assume Combat Air Patrol positions. Keep the skies clear while Delta One engages the target. Delta One form up on me and ready torpedoes. We're rolling in on target. Fifteen seconds out… Ten seconds… Five seconds… Three, two, one, Tally ho!"

The Type V blew apart while charging up for another burst. The resultant explosion rocked the fortress to its base. The Rascals joined their comrades in the air and secured the local airspace while monitoring ground traffic.

* * *

"What the hell was _that_?" T'Kir exclaimed as she steadied herself.

"Someone destroyed the phaser mount atop this facility." Dracas answered.

"And how do you know that?" T'Kir was incredulous.

"Phaser banks make a distinctive sound when they're destroyed." Dracas explained, "_That_ was that sound."

"You're amazing, y'know that?" T'Kir asked.

"Of course I do." Dracas replied.

T'Kir grinned, "Ah, a type of modesty I can relate to. Are you almost done?"

"The overload from the phaser's destruction scrammed the reactor." Dracas replied, "My work was done for me."

"Whatever works." T'Kir counselled. Her console beeped and she withdrew an isolinear rod, "Now I'm done."

"Now what?" Dracas wondered.

"Now we bust heads and start takin' names." T'Kir resolved.

"I like it." Dracas smiled, "Where do we start?"

T'Kir tapped her comm badge, "T'Kir to Macen."

There was no reply so she tried again. Frowning, she tapped her comm badge again, "T'Kir to Daggit."

She repeated the request to no avail. Finally she tried Radil.

"What do you want?" a harried sounding Radil answered.

"Where are you?" T'Kir asked.

"I'm in the reactor room with half of the building's security force right outside the door trying to get in." Radil replied and then she swore.

"You all right?" T'Kir asked.

"Sure." Radil grumped, "Never better. Why don't you do something useful rather than pester me?"

"We're on our way." T'Kir promised and closed the line.

"Let's get going." Dracas was eager for some action.

"Waitaminute." T'Kir advised, "We've got company."

* * *

"Roger that, Commander Riker." Vaughn said, "I have their landing coordinates. I'm dispatching teams now."

Vaughn signalled the transporter rooms where the teams waited. He transferred the landing site coordinates to each. Covert One would be tasked with tracing Macen's team's steps. Covert Two would proceed to the main entrance and attempt a penetration.

Covert One was comprised of team leader, Lt. Commander Stan Guthrie, Lieutenant T'Kris, Master Chief Kell Seemus, Chief Petty Officer Thrall Beckham, Petty Officer Sally Forthright, and Petty Officer "Merrill" Thermer'rillyst. Vaughn had personally selected them for their task. They had all familiarised themselves with Macen, T'Kir, Daggit, and Radil's sanitised personnel jackets.

They gathered together on the transporter pads. They were alert and ready for anything. They disappeared in a halo of energy…

* * *

…and reappeared on the executive landing pad. Once they were done coalescing, they fanned out and appraised their situation. The two corpses by the fortress' entrance immediately stood out. They cautiously approached the bodies and inspected them.

"They are not members of Captain Macen's usual landing party." T'Kris decided, "Nor are they members of his crew." T'Kris had been tasked with familiarising herself with Macen's crew roster. If she tacitly declared these two to be hostiles, so be it. Her word was law.

Guthrie gave the signal and the Covert One team entered the facility by twos. In the lead Kell had his rifle poised while Thrall scanned the area with a tricorder. The two had served together in the same cell of the Bajoran Resistance. They had joined the Bajoran Militia's Special Forces and served there until they were offered a chance to join Starfleet. There, they quickly proved their mettle.

Guthrie and Merrill followed. Behind them T'Kris and Forthright brought up the rear. They slowly proceeded along until Thrall detected lifesigns in the Reading Nook. Thrall showed his readings to Guthrie who nodded his assent to storming the Nook.

T'Kir and Dracas had returned to their hiding spots. They waited for the imminent rush of bodies. Dracas had his sword drawn since it would be close quarters fighting. The psychological effect of having a Roman soldier hacking his way through the troops would also work in their favour.

Just as Kell, Thrall and Guthrie came storming into the room T'Kir jumped out for her hiding spot with her hands raised and her phaser holstered, "Don't shoot! I'm one of the good guys."

Guthrie hesitated, "T'Kir?"

"Bingo! You win a cookie." T'Kir snapped off a lazy salute, "You can come out Joachim. They're Starfleet. They're here to rescue us."

"Joachim?" Guthrie's voice perked up.

Dracas stepped out and exclaimed, "Stan!" He rushed forward and he and Guthrie embraced. Guthrie's teammates, unused to a public display of affection from their leader, gaped.

Detaching himself from Dracas' embrace Guthrie began rattling off, "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be aboard the _Obsidian_."

"My services were required here." Dracas offered, "As apparently are yours."

"My team's involvement has been planned since the beginning of your mission to Mityr." Guthrie explained.

"If I may," Dracas asked, "how did your team find us?"

"We picked up your biosigns with a tricorder." Guthrie answered.

"Damn." Dracas' shoulders slumped, "And here I'd been thinking the sensor shrouds were working."

"I think they were at one point." T'Kir said, "Those goons that stormed past us earlier didn't know we were here."

"Interesting." Dracas mused.

"Time to be a soldier and not an engineer." Guthrie jested.

Dracas sobered up, "Of course."

"Where are your teammates?" Guthrie asked T'Kir.

"Brin and Daggit are in the command module but we haven't been able to contact them." She replied.

"And this module is located…?" Guthrie asked.

"1st tier, second level." T'Kir answered, "I'll show you."

"Isn't there normally another member of the team?" Guthrie enquired.

T'Kir nodded, "That'd be Radil. She's pinned down in the reactor room."

"Sounds unhealthy." Guthrie grimaced.

"The reactor is shut down." Dracas revealed, "Everything is operating off of the emergency batteries."

Guthrie turned to Dracas, "Do you know where the reactor is located?"

"I will lead the way." Dracas assured him.

"T'Kris, take Thrall and Merrill with you and follow Chief Dracas to the reactor room and extricate his teammate." Guthrie ordered, "Seemus and Forthright, you're with me. We will assist T'Kir in assisting Captain Macen."


	35. Chapter 35

Daggit reeled as Ryst's heel slammed into his face as she completed her back spin kick. Ryst was faster and more agile. She landed a dozen blows to every one of Daggit's.

Unfortunately for Ryst, she was 5'4" to his 6'4". This meant she had to work twice as hard to land many of her blows. As things stood, Daggit was getting punchy but Ryst was starting to get winded. He blinked and shook his head to clear the mental cobwebs.

Ryst surged forward and delivered two more left jabs to his heads followed by a vicious right cross. Daggit went down onto one knee. Gathering all of his strength he threw a massive roundhouse blow. Ryst was knocked off of her feet but she nimbly got back up. Daggit's head fell and his shoulders slumped.

Ryst stood over him, "I told you Rab. You can't beat me. Just let me go. I swear I won't ever come after Macen or any member of his crew again."

Daggit lifted his head, "Not good enough."

The walls, ceiling, and floor shook. The lights winked off and then came back on. Ryst grimaced, "Time to decide Rab. I'm leaving whether you try to stop me or not."

"No, you're not." Daggit started to rise. Ryst removed a small ball from her belt, closed her eyes and dropped it. The flashbomb went off with a blinding intensity. Daggit cried out and tried to shield his eyes with his hands.

Ryst delivered a powerful kick to his head, toppling him. She then grabbed his grenade launcher and her own phaser and ran out of the command centre. Daggit lolled on the floor desperately trying to recover his vision. Ryst ran for all she was worth and never looked back.

* * *

Macen bounced off of the wall and back into Sindis' waiting fist. Macen went to the floor but he was still conscious. Moving with unfocused deliberation he rose to his feet and turned to face Sindis. The Iridian smiled.

"Vaughn is a better fighter but I think you are more tenacious." Sindis chuckled, "I shall enjoying breaking you."

Sindis struck Macen in the head almost felling the El-Aurian again, "You and your Federation are to blame for my endeavors. Your collective goal is to take things. Oh, you're far too benighted and evolved to covet crass material gains. Instead, you suffer from intellectual greed. You want to know _everything_." Sindis declared, "Don't you know there's a limit to mortal knowledge? You pursue meaningless abstracts like truth, justice, and harmony. Let me reify these for you: I _am_ those things! I will _make_ them a reality for you…_all_ of you. All _you _have to do is submit."

The building shook and the lights flickered. Sindis was annoyed, "It seems you've recruited help. I must cut our meeting short, Captain. Stand aside."

"No." Macen slurred, "I can't let you leave."

Sindis tried to step around him. Macen unloaded a right cross, followed by another. A left roundhouse pummelled Sindis followed by another tremendous right. Sindis stepped back and wiped his nose and mouth. Cerulean blood pooled on his hand.

"Foolish, Captain." Sindis snarled and snapped off a vicious kick into Macen's chest.

Macen sailed over the desk and into the wall. He fell to the floor. Sindis shook his head and started around the desk. Chuckling, Macen rose to his feet. In his hand was his long lost phaser.

"Do you know how long it's taken me to get you to throw me over that desk?" Macen said in mocking tones.

Sindis was outraged, "How dare you pull a gun on me!"

"You're twice as strong, twice as fast, and twice the fighter that I am and you expect me to fist fight with you?" Macen scornfully asked.

Sindis' face twisted with hate but he fell silent. Macen warned him, "This phaser is set on maximum disrupt. That would even kill an Angosian."

Sindis lunged forward and Macen shot him. Sindis fell to the floor with a gurgle. Macen shrugged, "You shouldn't have tested me."

Just then, Daggit stumbled in. Macen shifted his aim from the Angosian to the floor, "Are you all right?"

Daggit nodded, "Mostly. She used a flashbomb to get passed me. I'm still seeing spots."

"Any word on the others?" Macen moved away from the desk and leaned up against the wall next to the door.

"T'Kir is on her way with Starfleet reinforcements." Daggit's vision began to clear, "Are _you_ all right? You look like you've been beaten half to death."

"You have no idea." Macen sighed, "Why don't you greet T'Kir. I think I'll just stay here and hold up this wall."

"You couldn't hold up dried paint." Daggit commented.

"Just go." Macen tiredly requested, "I'll be fine."

Daggit reluctantly exited the office space. Macen turned and noticed there was something odd about Sindis' corpse. The odd thing was that it was standing behind the desk and grinning.

"Farewell, Captain." Sindis said as he took his seat, "Better luck next time."

Macen raised his pistol but his vision was so blurry and his grip was so shaky he couldn't properly aim. Sindis keyed a sequence into the comp/comm and a portal opened up beneath Sindis' feet. The chair's seat dropped and Sindis found himself sliding into the tunnel revealed by the portal. Once inside he slid into an egg shaped jetpod that rocketed away to a safehouse hundreds of kilometres away.

Meanwhile, Macen's vision began to tunnel and he struggled to exit Sindis' office. As he cleared the doorway he heard T'Kir call out to him. He could sense, and hear, the concern emanating from her. He smiled wanly and tried to be chipper.

"How're you doing?" he enquired.

"Elements!" T'Kir exclaimed, "Brin! What happened to you?"

"Oh, m'fine." Macen was delirious, "Just havin' trouble focusing. I'll b'fine inna minute." With that, Macen collapsed.

"Brin!" T'Kir shrieked, "Elements! Somebody help!"

Guthrie and Forthright rushed to their side. Forthright, who was cross-trained as a medic, scanned Macen's still form, "He has a severe concussion, massive internal haemorrhaging. Most of his bones are fractured…several are acute breaks." She looked up at Guthrie, "He's going into shock. We need to evac him to medical facilities."

"Break out the stretcher." Guthrie ordered and then he tapped his comm badge, "Guthrie to T'Kris."

The Vulcan's cool voice came back a few minutes later, "T'Kris here, Commander. How may I be of assistance?"

"I need a sitrep." Guthrie informed her, marvelling at the serenity in her voice.

T'Kris' voice did not change one iota as she delivered the requested situation report, "We have met Covert Two. They have pursued the bulk of the facility's security forces as they fled to our present location. We now have the opposition caught in a crossfire."

"How're our two SID agents?" Guthrie asked.

"They seem satisfied with the turn of events." T'Kris replied.

_That_, Guthrie mused, _was typical T'Kris_. Succinct bordering on cryptic. After all, _which_ of the pair seemed satisfied with _what _events? A little personal information would be nice.

_Stop it_. Guthrie chided himself; _You're only doing this because Joachim's down there._ Realising the truth of his observation, he subsided, "Good work T'Kris. Carry on. By the by, our team is bugging out. Captain Macen requires immediate medical attention. Are you certain Level One is clear?"

"Covert Two seemed confidant of their declaration." T'Kris answered.

"We'll trust their judgement." He decided, "Guthrie out."

He turned to see that Forthright and Seemus had extended and adjusted the stretcher. They gingerly lifted Macen and placed him atop of it. Daggit intervened at that point.

"I'll take that Master Chief." He said, "It sounds as though we may need an extra gunhand. My vision is still too spotty to be reliable. I can carry my Captain though. More to the point, my duty lies with him."

Seemus approved of this sentiment and acceded to the request. Daggit took the rear of the stretcher, carrying Macen's chest and upper torso, and lifted as Forthright did the same. With T'Kir leading the way they hustled Macen out of the centre and off towards the Citadel's main entrance.

* * *

After fleeing from the command bunker, Ryst went to a nearby stairwell. She crept the door open and discreetly listened. Echoing down the well came T'Kir's voice. Joining it were other voices, presumably Starfleet officers. After all, Macen's group couldn't have destroyed the phaser banks on their own.

Ryst slowly closed the door. She'd meant what she said to Daggit. She'd no longer try to kill Macen or his team. That included fighting with them.

Ryst had failed the last wishes of Robhurt B'nner and through him his son Daveed. She decided she didn't care. The path of vengeance led to her own early grave. She had her life and she had a bright new future to explore. She was determined to enjoy it.

Now, she just had to disappear. Starfleet wouldn't remain on Mityr forever. Once they were gone, and before Sindis could reassert control, she'd board her runabout and be away from here.

She slipped further down the corridor and entered an adjoining stairwell. She then climbed the stairs to the floor with the entrance to the executive landing platform. Between fighting Daggit and taking the stairs two at a time, she was feeling quite tired.

As she passed the pirate corpses, she realized her fatigue ran deeper than her joints and marrow. Her very soul ached. She fought the urge to laugh at herself. It had been years since she had believed in anything as ethereal as a soul. Maybe she was in for more drastic changes within herself then she'd initially expected.

Ryst crossed the landing platform and reached her runabout. Her voice recognition system coupled with her biosignature reader recognized her and granted her access to the runabout's interior. She sealed and locked the door behind her.

She moved to the cockpit and brought up auxiliary power. The ship had been resting on standby. This move would bring up all of the power systems. She placed the warp core on standby and moved out of the cockpit.

Slipping out of her clothes, she took a shower. Next she applied a dermal regenerator to her bruised and battered body. She simply dressed in a terrycloth robe and proceeded to her multimedia suite. She wasn't normally a fan of fictional distractions but the complimentary selections included several documentaries and textbooks. She engrossed herself in them and forgot about the world outside.


	36. Chapter 36

Guthrie's party exited the Citadel. They'd travelled its corridors unmolested and could now contact the ships in orbit. T'Kir immediately tapped her comm badge.

"T'Kir to _Obsidian_."

"_Obsidian_ here." Came the OPS Officer's voice.

"Patch me in to the transporter room." T'Kir instructed.

"Roger that." Came the somewhat harried reply.

"T'Kir to Telrik." T'Kir said.

"Telrik here." Came the Tellarite's gruff reply. The tone softened somewhat with his next words, "How can I help you?"

"We have a medical emergency." T'Kir explained, "We need to be transported to Sickbay."

"I'll alert them that you're coming." Telrik replied, "Stand by for my signal."

* * *

The advantages of being an Emergency Medical Hologram, Tessa decided, included not feeling fatigued or overwhelmed by treating nearly half the crew for injuries in just under an hour. That included the Captain, who was far more severely injured than any of her other patients.

She'd forced Daggit to accept treatment from a nurse. His injuries, while far from minor, were not life threatening. Macen's were.

His broken ribs and sternum threatened his vital organs while his concussion and case of shock could prove fatal at any moment. A humanoid body could only withstand so much regeneration in a day. Macen bones would be healed but his bruises, internal and external, would have to heal the old fashioned way…and he was bruised from head to toe.

The trauma team had to cut his clothes off of him and draped a sheet over him for modesty's sake. Seeing Macen's battered form naked nearly brought T'Kir to tears. She stoically swallowed her grief and stood by as Tessa explained everything to her. Her mind reeled with each new revelation.

Grace rushed into Sickbay and took T'Kir into her arms. She guided T'Kir to an empty chair and sat her down. She saw to T'Kir's own forgotten needs even as Tessa and her specialists saw after Macen…

Guthrie, Seemus, and Forthright were met in the corridor outside of Sickbay by Danan. She graced them with a warm smile, "You look a little lost."

"No, ma'am." Guthrie replied, "We know the ship's layout."

"That's not what I meant." Danan corrected him, "Follow me and I'll show you where you can settle and wait for the rest of your team."

"We really should be returning to the _Hood_…" Guthrie trailed.

"Captain Limerick has made an allowance for you to stay aboard long enough to greet our Chief Engineer."

Guthrie blushed, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good boy." Danan patted him on the shoulder, "Now if you three would follow me?"

* * *

"Sorry but it looks as though we won't be able replace the warp core anytime soon." Riker informed Limerick, "Our entire Engineering department is busy bolstering a nacelle brace and sealing a hull breach."

"But no one is EVA?" Limerick was concerned.

Riker shook his head, "No. From this point on everything is interior work."

"Good." Limerick decided, "Captain Hev of the _Monitor_ has reported that four Conglomerate heavies are in bound. Our orders are to avoid engagements or entanglements with the local authorities. We'll have to tow you. We can still make warp three with the tractor beam engaged."

"Whatever works." Riker chuckled, "I just don't want to get left behind."

Limerick laughed, "No worries there, Commander. We're bringing you to _DS3_ whether you want to be there or not."

"We're all looking forward to it." Riker grinned, "Trust me."

"I'll leave you to it then." Limerick signed off and turned to Vaughn, "So neither Covert One or Two confirmed Sindis' death?"

"He's not dead." Vaughn grimaced, "Trust me on this."

"I do." Limerick admitted, "That's what depresses me."

"Cheer up, Merry." Vaughn extolled, "You'll get another crack at him."

"I suppose." Limerick said and then straightened up, "Prepare tractor beam!"

Vaughn smiled as his Elvin friend issued orders and prepared for departure. He exited the bridge and returned to his guest quarters. His bones ached and the doctor had been nagging him to get some rest. He'd done his part in the mission and it hadn't been good enough. Maybe it _was_ time to consider retirement after all…

* * *

The _Hood_ tractored the _Obsidian_ and set out. The _Monitor_ and the _Merrimack_ went ahead of them to run interference. Half of the Rascals were deployed around the carrier and her wounded kin. The rest were on alert.

The squadron proceeded to _Deep Space 3_. They weren't harassed and they met no opposition. They simply disappeared into the night.

* * *

Sindis wandered around the vacated command bunker in the massive Citadel complex. He motioned for Gaston to attend him and the faithful lieutenant dutifully snapped to, "Yes, my Lord?"

"Any word on Annika Ryst?" Sindis asked.

"None." Gaston answered, "A runabout matching the description of her ship took off and departed the system while our forces were securing the planet."

"Pity." Sindis mused, "I suppose she's on her own then."

Sindis brightened and turned to Gaston, "Any word from the Syndicate dons?"

"Yessir." Gaston replied, "They are outraged at Starfleet's blatant disregard for interstellar law. They stand united behind you and look forward to your arrival."

This amused Sindis, "They really referred to a 'blatant disregard for interstellar law'?"

"Yes, sir."

Sindis chuckled, "Ironic coming from a criminal organisation."

Gaston grinned, "Yes, sir!"

"Come, Gaston." Sindis beckoned for the Lantilian to follow him, "There is always tomorrow. We have a coronation to prepare for."

"_Yes_, sir."

* * *

The following day found Macen sitting atop an examination table in Sickbay... His shirt was off and his body was an ugly purple/black/blue mass. He fidgeted while Tessa examined him.

"C'mon Tessa," he wheedled, "you've already had me here overnight. What else can you do?"

"I'm prescribing hot soaks, a _highly _modified regimen of exercise and stretches, and no strenuous activity of _any_ kind."

T'Kir looked crestfallen at the last. Macen meekly acceded, "I don't feel like arguing much less disobeying."

"Good." Tessa huffed and deactivated herself.

A wry expression crossed Macen's face, "That's goodbye then."

"Shhhh. She can still hear you." T'Kir warned.

"So can I." Drake warned as the door finished cycling.

Macen scrutinised her wheelchair laden form and he knelt beside her, "Amanda, I'm so sorry."

"Ye gods, Brin," Drake chuckled darkly, "have you seen yourself lately? I'm the one that's sorry that you got ordered in there on my behalf."

"Amanda," Macen took her hand and squeezed, "I would have paid a greater price for you and never looked back."

Drake blinked back sudden tears and she looked up at T'Kir. T'Kir smiled warmly, "We all would have. But, just the same, I'm glad we didn't have to."

Drake unsuccessfully fought a sniffle, "All right. Put your shirt on. You look like a Jackson Pollock."

Macen slipped his Henley back on, "Do you have plans?"

"I plan on having lunch with you two." Drake declared, "And then we're going to inspect your guest suite."

Macen looked at T'Kir, "Do you have our bags packed?"

The _Obsidian's _crew was being housed on _DS3_ while the ship underwent repairs. The repairs would require two weeks. Macen had slated three weeks for their layover. They needed the rest, he'd decided. After that they were headed home.

"They're waiting at the airlock." T'Kir replied.

Macen kissed her, "Let's get going then."

* * *

Three weeks passed and the _Obsidian _passed her trials. The Outbound Ventures ship returned to Barrinor and her crew scattered. Macen and T'Kir took the _Idiot's Delight _and set course for _DS9_. After arriving, they paid a visit to Vaughn.

As the lift to Ops settled, Vaughn looked up from the report he was reading. Ruefully he asked, "Ro?"

"And Kira." Macen answered with an easy smile, "Want to talk?"

"Edgars!" Vaughn called out.

"Yo!"

"You have the watch." Vaughn informed him. He joined Macen and T'Kir on the lift and it descended.

* * *

Ro joined them at Quark's. They then proceeded to the holosuite containing Vic's Lounge. Vic Fontaine cut a jam session short to visit them.

"Hey Pallie," Fontaine said to Vaughn, "you've been hidin' out on me."

"I didn't mean…" Vaughn started to protest.

"Don't kid a kidder, chum." Fontaine warned, "You've been a Gloomy Gus and you're afraid this particular flashbulb is gonna cheer you up. Am I right?"

"You just sit here and order up." Fontaine urged, "Anything you want…on the house. Me and the boys are gonna continue with our little session. Don't mind us."

Vaughn reluctantly smiled, "I knew there was a reason I was avoiding this place."

"So what's on your mind, Elias?" Macen asked.

"Not wasting any time, eh Brin?" Vaughn chuckled mirthlessly.

"I really don't see the point in wasting time." Macen confessed, "So give."

"We've covered this ground before." Vaughn sighed, "I'm just wondering whether or not it's time to hang up my spurs."

"Let me ask you this: do you want Sindis to win?" Macen angrily asked.

"What?" Vaughn was startled.

"Do you want to quit Starfleet because Bertram Sindis has scared you into resigning?" Macen demanded.

"No." Vaughn growled.

"I didn't here that." Macen replied.

"No." Vaughn declared.

"I still can't hear you!" Macen yelled.

"No!" Vaughn yelled back.

"Are you a quitter?" Macen shouted.

"No!" Vaughn stormed.

"Are you gonna get the bastard?" Macen demanded.

"Yes!" Vaughn shouted from his toes. The cry for vengeance was plain.

Macen and Vaughn stood, eyes blazing, staring at one another. Macen spoke, "We'll get him. You and I, together, we'll take him down. He'll never do this to us again. Just don't quit. If you quit, you lose him. Understand? You'll lose him."

Vaughn's resolve was back and he looked forged from iron, "I understand."

"Then let's party!" Macen declared.

* * *

Harry Drumdore cautiously approached the office. He'd never done this sort of thing before. What if he were doing it wrong?

He hesitated. The sign on the door read: CELESTE ROCKFORD – PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR. Drumdore had checked up on Rockford. Normally there was a sign hanging on the door stating that Rockford was offworld on a case.

Drumdore considered himself fortunate that she was in. Her reputation was impeccable. Entire agencies survived off of the caseload crumbs she couldn't handle or accept. Drumdore prayed that she would hear him out as he opened the door. A receptionist took his name and a cursory outline of his problem and led him to a seat.

Fifteen minutes later, Annika Ryst appeared and stuck out her hand, "Hello Mr. Drumdore. I'm Celeste Rockford. How can I help?"


	37. Epilogue

Macen looked around at the gathering. Everyone was here…plus a few guests. Kort, Daggit and Parva sat laughing at a joke told by Grace. Radil and Abby Collins chatted with Riker and Danan about Riker's upcoming command. T'Kir was mercilessly grilling Dracas and Stan Guthrie. It was a tight intimate circle and it was about to be broken.

Macen had long dreaded this day. He knew things couldn't stay the same forever but part of him wished for the impossible anyway. He'd risked his life with these people and relied upon them for his very own on occasion. Although they weren't going very far he'd miss them as if they were a galaxy away.

Macen gathered everyone's attention and began to speak, "We're here to celebrate the last seven years and our friendship. While our friendship isn't going away our association is. I'd like to say something to each of you before you go."

Macen approached Riker and Danan, "Tom, we didn't always get along and for a while we rarely saw eye to eye but we pulled ourselves together in the end. You were a good counselor and a brilliant tactician. You'll be sorely missed."

To Danan he said, "Lees, you've already been sorely missed once before. Your departure is especially hard this time. You've been an XO, a scientist, a rebel soldier, and a lover at different periods of time. What will I do without you?"

Macen turned to Daggit, "Rab, you've always been the strong right arm. When we needed the impossible accomplished you were there. You arrived a haunted monster and you've become a breathing, feeling individual. You're one of a kind…which is sad for me. You'll never be replaced."

He came to Kort, "Kort, you are exceptional. You never shirked your duty and you always went a step beyond what was required. Your expertise will be missed as will your sense of conviction and courage."

Macen addressed the rest, "To the rest of you, I'm eternally grateful that you're not leaving as well. Your willingness to go on has prevented me from retiring. Your courage and faith inspire me. Let's see where we're at six years from now!"

Everyone drank a toast and the evening resumed its lively flavor…

The story will resume…


End file.
